Little Girl Lost
by Gianni Lee
Summary: When Anders' rescues a little girl with a obscure past it isn't long until a unsolved case crosses Aveline's desk. Is this mysterious girl somehow connected with Aveline's investigation or is it just chance that she showed up when she did? Takes place during Act 2. 'M' Rating for adult themes, language in future chapters and violent content.
1. Lost and Found

**Little Girl Lost**

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own anything, Dragon Age is not mine. The characters, game content and materials in the following story are copyrighted to BioWare. Neither I, nor this story, are endorsed by or affiliated with BioWare, or its licensors or subsidiaries. I do not receive any monetary compensation from the publication of this narrative. All Rights Reserved.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **The artwork associated with this story was my inspiration for this tale. It's called "The mage and his apprentice" and was drawn by a DeviantArt artist known as rooster82. She's an amazing artist and I highly recommend you view her work posted at rooster82. deviantart. com (minus the spaces after the dots). I am using the image with the artist's knowledge and permission.

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**Chapter 1: Lost and Found  
**

"_Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter.  
Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just."  
Benedictions 4:10_

..~~~**~~~..

Anders shivers in his coat as a cold gust of wind cuts through Darktown. Each blast of cold air threatens to extinguish the small fires that people huddle around for warmth. He keeps a tight grip on his satchel; its contents of food and medicinal herb worth more than gold in this part of Kirkwall. He is almost to his clinic when he sees a young, barefoot girl running as fast as her little legs would take her. She almost runs into him before she disappears around a corner only to be followed a group of men. The leader bravely declaring that they have her.

"Leave her alone!" Anders shouts after the men, who ignore him to pursue the child.

"She's trapped now," one of them says as they round the corner.

Before Justice can intervene, Anders takes off after them. Following them down the flight of stairs, he sees them try to corner the young girl. She looks frantically around for an exit, the fear in her face stabbing him in the heart. One of the men pulls out a pair of shackles and begins closing the distance. Without another thought, Anders jumps the rail, landing with his staff in hand between the girl and her would-be captors.

"Get away from her!" He growls, barely managing to contain Justice.

"What have we here," the leader sneers, "…a volunteer? Wonder how much we'll get for you."

Anders swings his staff around, catching the man square in the jaw with the metal capped end. The Grey Wardens taught him that in a fight he cannot rely solely on his magic. It was they who taught him that his magical staff is a weapon in more ways than one. A second man tries to flank him, Anders responds by jabbing him in the gut with the blunt end of his staff, knocking the wind from his attacker. Again he swings his staff around, catching the stunned man at the base of his skull.

A third man charges with his two-handed sword ready to strike. Anders side steps the attack, and pulls the child behind him in the process. He uses his staff to trip this opponent and send him stumbling and falling. Anders strikes the man in the head with his staff and renders him unconscious. He barely has time to block a new attacker wielding two daggers. The metal blades bite into the wood of his staff. The man suddenly jerks back, pulling Anders off balance and driving a knee into Anders' gut, forcing the breath from him. He collapses to his knees as his body struggles for its next breath. The rogue presses the attack, but Anders manages to roll out of the way. With a grateful gulp of air, Anders sweeps his staff around and knocks the rogue to the ground before he staggers to his feet. Five more men had now joined the fray, bringing the total of those standing to eight.

"You shall not have her." Anders warns as he feels Justice threatening against his restraints. The spirit is eager to battle this obvious injustice. Anders takes a defensive stance between the slavers and the child.

"You're a feisty one. Some pay extra for that." The leader says, wiping the blood from his chin with the back of his hand.

"He'd make a terrible slave. He talks too much." A familiar female voice calls out, providing a valuable distraction for Anders. "He also does that."

Her distraction provides just enough time for Anders to mutter his spell and summon the magical energies which, when released upon the leader, freezes him where he stands.

"Mage!" another man shouts releasing an arrow at Anders. It cuts his coat and grazes his arm. The archer soon meets his own end as one of Varric's bolts buries itself deep in the archer chest. Fenris joins the battle as well, showing the slavers the fury of former slave. A slaver's arrow flies and this one finds its mark in Hawke's chest causing her to stumble back.

"Hawke!" Anders screams, watching the raven-haired woman stagger. With a roar of fury the woman throws herself at the archer, spinning with her twin blades flashing. They strike home killing the archer before he can nock another arrow.

One of the slavers deftly avoids Varric's bolts as he charges towards the dwarf.

"Daisy! A little help here," Varric cries out. Merrill uses her magic to confuse and disorient the assailant. Varric uses the opportunity and takes down the slaver with a bolt to the heart.

Anders slices with the bladed end of his staff at a man charging him. The attacker dodges wildly to avoid the blow, rolling across the ground only to end up an impromptu sheath for Hawke's waiting blades.

Once the last enemy falls, Hawke collapses to her knees while looking down at the arrow in her chest. Anders and Fenris are beside her in an instant.

"How bad is it?" Fenris asks.

"I don't… think… it got past… my armor." She gasps, reluctant to touch the arrow.

"I beg to differ," Anders says, taking a closer look, "but I don't think it's serious. Let's get to my clinic I can take care of it there."

"Who were those men?" Varric asks.

"Slavers. They were chasing her." Anders turns towards the girl he had defended. She sits huddled in a corner, her knees brought up her chest as she tries pressing farther back into the corner. Her large dark eyes are wide with fear and her fat, sloppy dark curls frame a precious heart shaped face with dainty features.

"It's all right." Anders soothes while kneeling down to look the child in the eyes. "You're safe now."

Her incredible midnight blue eyes look at the carnage and then back as Anders, the fear in her eyes still painfully evident. "I can help you." Anders reassures. Suddenly, she bolts from the corner and wraps her tiny arms about his neck.

"Maker's breath child, you're freezing!" Anders exclaims when her icy skin touches his.

"Here, put this on." He removes his satchel before shrugging out of his coat to wrap about the girl. He then picks her and his satchel up and quickly makes his way to his clinic. "Come on…let's get them both to my clinic."

..~~*~~..

Anders is grateful beyond words that his clinic happens to be close; his muscles ache from the shivering and he can't feel his fingers.

"Agnes, take the child, I'm going to tend to Hawke." Anders says, handing the bundled girl to one the women who helps him with his clinic. Fenris gets Hawke onto one the nearby cots and unfastens her armor, but he is careful not remove anything until the healer can look at her wounds. Hawke's breathing is pained and shallow, but consistent. The elven warrior takes this as a good sign, but the amount of blood alarms both Fenris and Anders. The healer wastes little time before tending to his friend.

Merrill is so confidant in Anders' healing abilities and Hawke's immortality that she opts to see to the child. She makes her way over to where the elderly woman is cleaning away the dirt and checking for wounds. The girl can't be any more than eight years old. The child's dark and dirty curly locks reaching past her shoulders. She's slender, perhaps even a little underfed but not alarmingly so. She's wearing only a thin tattered sleeping gown that was once white, but is now dingy from age and stained with dirt and coal. The sleeping gown is far too light of a material for winter, so it strikes Merrill as odd that the child would wear something like this in such freezing temperatures.

"How is she doing?" Merrill asks.

"There's a small scar by her ear, but that's all. Not a bruise or scratch on her." Agnes points to the small blemish shaped like the letter "y" by the child's left ear.

"Isn't it odd that she would wear something like that in the middle of winter?"

"It is, but perhaps…" she looks up in time to see a pregnant woman walk in, holding her belly in such a way to indicate she's close to labor. "…excuse me." Agnes says before running to the woman and helping her to one of the more private cots.

The little girl looks up at Merrill, a heartbreaking sad look in her eyes. Her hands folded neatly in her lap where Agnes had set them.

"Hello there," Merrill says, sitting down next on the cot next to girl. "My name's Merrill. What's your name?"

The girl turns her sad gaze away from the elf and towards the floor.

"That's a very pretty bracelet. Was it a gift?" Merrill asks, referring to the simple leather thong with three wooden beads threaded on it that the girl has tied about her wrist. The girl looks at the bracelet and gently runs her fingers over the blue, black and pink beads. Her hand drops and shrugs, her eyes never leaving the floor.

"Do you live around here? In Darktown I mean, not Kirkwall in general."

The girl shrugs slightly, slowly returning her gaze to the Dalish elf sitting next to her. When Merrill asks about her family the girl shakes her head, the deep sorrow still haunting her dark blue eyes.

"Oh…" Merrill says in a sad tone. "Did you lose them during the Blight?" Again the girl shrugs. "Do you not remember anything? Your family? How you got to Kirkwall? Your name? Anything?"

She turns her gaze back to the floor and shakes her head.

"You don't talk much do you? Sometimes, people say I talk too much. I do tend to babble when I get nervous."

The hint of a smile plays across the child's lips. "Oh…careful, if you smile too much your face might crack."

Her smile broadens, but the sorrow never fully leaves her eyes. Merrill looks up at the approaching Anders. "Is Hawke all better?"

"She will be fine in a few days. How's our little friend doing?" Anders asks, taking a brief moment to examine the cut on his arm from the arrow.

"I don't know. She hasn't spoken a single word. But there doesn't seem to be any injuries." Merrill answers.

"She looks elf-blooded." Fenris notes, indicating the girl's slight build, delicate features and her slightly larger than normal eyes.

"But she doesn't have pointed ears." Anders points out.

"When a human and elf have a child, that child will be human. Why do you think elves choose to stay together?" Merrill explains.

"It's true." Fenris agrees. "I would wager that one of her parents is an elf."

"Where are your parents?" Anders asks, kneeling before the child. The girl just looks at Anders and shrugs.

"I don't think she remembers anything." Merrill suggests.

"Is that true?" He asks the child, who merely shrugs and looks back at the floor. "I wonder if she hit her head at some point?" he muses, carefully examining the child's skull for any injury. Not finding any he drops his hands and looks at her sad face. "Maybe you can stay here until we find your family."

"In Darktown?" Varric asks, suddenly becoming part of the conversation.

"I admit it's not the best place for a child, but there are other children around and someone is always here at the clinic. Plus almost every Ferelden refugee knows about this place. I can get word to Lirene about her for when her family starts looking for her," Anders suggests.

"You know Blondie, you barely manage to feed yourself on a daily basis. How are you going to care for a child?" The dwarf points out, then quickly continues before Anders gets too defensive, "Look, all I'm trying to say is that there's another place in Kirkwall, just as well known, where the girl will be safe and fed every day."

"I don't know…Hawke has made a lot of enemies."

"Wait! What?" Hawke exclaims, still a touch groggy from the numbing potion Anders gave her before stitching her wound closed.

"I meant the Chantry." Varric says, rubbing his forehead.

The child bolts off the bed, landing on her knees as she grabs the front of Anders' shirt. Her eyes are wide and filled a raw terror which raises many questions. She's shaking her head so hard her black curls are sticking in the tears running down her face.

"Oh, I don't think she wants to go the Chantry." Merrill says.

"If she doesn't want to go, I'm not sending her." Anders smooths the child's hair and does his best to calm her.

"I wonder what caused that reaction." Hawke asks.

"Could she be a mage?" Fenris asks.

"Will you cut her down where she stands if she is?" Anders snaps.

"I don't murder children." Fenris growls in response, his hands clenching into tight fists.

"Is she a mage?" Hawke asks quickly, trying to keep the conversation on track.

"She's at the age where her magic would start to manifest. If she is a mage the Chantry would send her to the Circle. There, Meredith will force the Rite of Tranquility on her because she either cannot or will not speak." Anders spitefully answers. He turns his attentions back the child. "Are you a mage?" he asks in a calmer tone. She keeps her silence and looks down at the floor, shrugging.

"Do you mind if I try something? It won't hurt, I promise." Merrill asks the girl.

"You're not doing blood magic in my clinic," Anders warns.

"There are other magics out there." Merrill says with a sigh, and returns her attention to the little girl still clinging to Anders' shirt. Merrill holds out her hands, palm up, promising again there'll be no pain. Reluctantly she takes Merrill's hands.

"By the Creators! Your hands are like ice!" Merrill exclaims. She quickly gathers her composure. "Now, I want you to relax. You may feel a slight tickle, but that's all."

Merrill whispers softly in her strange Dalish tongue, summoning purple and blue wisps of magic which dance about their hands. Then, just as quickly as it started, it was over. Merrill pulls her hands away, a puzzled look upon her face.

"Curious. It's like she touched by the Beyond but she's not a mage. I've never seen anything like it," Merrill reports.

"She is an abomination?" Fenris demands.

"No, she has no magic. It…it's like…like…oh I don't know how to explain it," Merrill says in defeat.

"What did you do?" Anders asks.

"It's an old Dalish trick. When a child is suspected of magic, the Keeper tests the child by summoning the tiniest bit of magic and seeing if there is a response. It's quite simple really. I can show you if you'd like."

"So she's not a mage and she doesn't want to go the Chantry. Is anyone else volunteering to babysit?" Hawke asks.

After a moment of silence, Varric speaks up. "Well Blondie, I guess there's nothing else to say except… Congratulations! It's a girl."

"Please don't say it like that." Anders says, suddenly aware of the responsibility he has just undertaken.

..~~*~~..

Just beyond the darkness is the whispering, persistent and just soft enough that he can't make out any words. He can only hear voices and just at the edge of the whispering, the beautiful, enticing music that dances hypnotically just out of range. He can barely hear it if he strains to listen, and he struggles to follow that hauntingly beautiful sound.

Flashes of blood and fire interrupt the music. Images of the Mother cackling and crying, reaching out in vain for the music she can no longer hear. Her clawed hands are clutching at empty air, hoping to capture the elusive melody. She suddenly sees him, sees that he can hear what she has lost. The Mother screams, and hordes of her hideously deformed Children swarm him. His magic is useless as they overpower him and carry him to the Mother despite his protests and struggling. The Children pin him as her sharp claws tear into him, pulling out his entrails to feast on in her desperate attempt to reconnect with her brethren. He's screaming while she cries in frustration and fury, her razor sharp claws continuing to tear him apart.

He wakes suddenly, safe in his own bed with his heart racing in his throat and his breath coming out in ragged gasps. He can feel Justice's attempts to reassure his friend that the Mother was destroyed, bringing up memories of the hideous creature's demise. Anders swings his legs over, plants his feet on the floor, and cradles his head in his hands doing his best to calm himself. Oh the joys of being a Grey Warden.

Sleep was not going to happen again tonight. He slips on his boots when a faint sound causes him to pause. Soft, fearful whimpers and grunts pull his attention to the child he rescued a week ago. She tosses and turns, trying frantically to escape her own nightmare. Anders gently touches her shoulder to wake her as he has done several times since she's been with him; her eyes fly open wide and are filled with a wild fear.

"You were having another nightmare," Anders whispers. "Do you want to…talk about it? Maybe draw it out? It might make you feel better." He suggests. She shakes her head, snuggles down, but doesn't close her eyes.

"All right then. Try to get some sleep. I'll be in the clinic if you need me." He says, tucking her in and smoothing her tousled hair.

"Anders…Templars!" a red headed woman quietly warns, as she rushes into his room. Anders curses under his breath. He grabs his coat and staff and by the time he turns back around the girl is out of bed with her arms held up ready to go with him. He scoops her up in his arms and escapes out the secret back door mere seconds before the Templars and their angry accusations fill the room. He can hear loud voices echo in the small corridor as he runs through its twisting, labyrinth like path to safety.

He pauses at an exit which leads to a small unoccupied, one room hovel at the edge of Darktown. He listens carefully for the sound of any movement beyond the secret door. Satisfied the room is empty he creeps in, setting the child down as he listens to the distant sounds of armored feet outside. He holds his breath, his eyes scanning the darkness, as the child behind him clutches the back of his coat. When he hears no more armored feet, he hazards a step forward, and then another, and then a third step. The door burst open and a lone Templar charges in, heading directly for Anders. He pushes the child back and uses his staff to trip the Templar, who nimbly dodges swinging his blade at the mage. Anders manages to bring up his staff to block the blow, only to have his staff knocked from his grasp.

The Templar grabs Anders by his coat and throws him across the room. Anders hits the opposite wall with a body racking thud and locks his legs to remain on his feet. He braces for the warrior's inevitable charge and manages to dive out of the way, grabbing his staff as he rolls to safety. The Templar snatches the staff and pulls Anders close, slamming his helmet into Anders' forehead. Dazed and disoriented, Anders releases the staff and stumbles back tripping over his feet and landing heavily on the earthen floor. Thinking he has the advantage, the Templar charges toward the crumpled mage, and grabs him by the collar of his shirt. As he is being hauled to his feet, Anders throws a handful of dirt into the Templar's helm. The Templar stumbles back, sputtering and trying to wipe his face through his helmet. Anders again collapses to the ground, his world spinning and his vision blurred and double, blood trickling into his eyes and threatening to blind him.

The Templar throws off his gauntlets and helm, frantically trying to clear the dirt away from his eyes. With blurred and tear streaked vision, he can just make out Anders stumbling to his feet, staggering towards his staff. A metal boot to the chest sends the mage sprawling. He brings his sword down, blindly catching his prey in the thigh.

Anders cries out as the blade slices through muscle and digs into the bone. He screams again as the warrior viciously twists the blade before pulling the weapon free. The Templar brings his blade up with the intention of finishing off the Apostate.

"No!" Anders cries out, seeing the girl pick up his staff, fearing that the Templar would mistake her for a mage a kill her without hesitation. Sensing the cry was not directed at him, the Templar spins, ready to attack. The child clutches the staff tightly and slowly backs away. Large fear filled eyes stare up and the heavily armored man.

"She's not a mage! Leave her alone!" Anders demands as he tries to stand, his wounded leg refusing to support his weight. He leans heavily on the wall trying to claw his way onto his feet.

"We shall see about that," The Templar says, menacingly closing the distance between him and the child. Anders mutters quietly to himself weaving his spell, but the Templar is faster, using his aura to purge the area of magic. Anders gasps, staggers and falls to the ground as his magical energies are viciously forced back into him. The girl also feels the burst. She stumbles back and falls to the ground, still clutching Anders' staff.

"Only a mage would have felt that." The Templar says, again raising his sword. Anders tenuous hold on Justice shatters as his eyes flash blue with the power of the Fade.

"**No!"** It is Justice who yells, launching himself at the warrior. The Templar cries out, dropping his sword as he throws the mage off. Justice lands on his side and wastes no time in using his good leg to kick the back of the knee, driving the Templar to the ground.

"**You shall never have this child!" **Justice declares as he leaps onto the downed Templar's back, quickly snapping the warrior's neck. The Templar slumps to the ground. Justice pushes himself away from the dead warrior, and retreats leaving Anders in control. The girl scrabbles to her feet and rushes to him, dropping his staff in the process. She wraps her arms about his neck.

"Are you all right? Did he hurt you?" Anders breathlessly asks, holding her close and breathing hard from the battle. The adrenaline is now fading, and pain is taking its place. He takes in a pained breath. She pushes back and looks at him with concerned eyes for an instant before digging into one of his pouches for a healing salve.

Anders waves her off. "I'll be fine. Just…just give me a minute. Maker, my head is killing me," he says as he tenderly touching the lump on his forehead, his fingers coming away bloodied. He leans his head back, muttering a healing spell quietly under his breath. The warm, comforting energies surround and fill him, knitting bone and flesh back together. The pain in his head is gone and his leg is strong enough to stand on, but everything still aches. He quickly retrieves his staff from where she had dropped it and heads back towards the secret door.

"We can't stay here," he says, holding his hand out to the child. His original plan was to make it to a safe house in Lowtown and stay there for the night, but judging by the approaching feet he needs a new plan.

Hawke…if they can make it to her home they'll be safe for the night. Anders leads the way through the tunnel, heading towards the nearest exit to Hightown.

..~~*~~..

Anders is feverishly pacing, his mind replaying the events with the Templar.

_She felt the Templar's aura, only mages are susceptible to that. _Anders thinks as his stride continues to eat floor.

"She's sleeping now. Want to tell me what happened?" Hawke asks, setting two glasses on a small end table and filling them with strong liquor.

"Justice doesn't let me get drunk anymore," Anders says wistfully in reference to the second glass.

"Drunk?" She teases, with a slow smile. "I'm just trying to calm your nerves," she counters, setting the bottle back on the bar and sitting in one of the two chairs flanking the fireplace.

"Templars raided the clinic tonight. We barely managed to escape," he begins, picking up one of the offered glasses, and downing about a third of its contents. He winces as the forgotten burn runs the length of his throat. "During our escape we encountered a Templar," he pauses, taking a much smaller sip of the drink Hawke had poured for him. "A Templar can extend their aura and negate magic. It's an unpleasant feeling. It's like having your breath forced back into your body. You've been present when a Templar did that to me," he explains setting the mostly empty glass down.

"I don't remember feeling anything like that," Hawke says, after taking a drink.

"I know. Only mages can feel it," he finishes the beverage before continuing. "She felt it, Hawke; she felt that Templar's aura. She's having nightmares every night, but she's not showing any other 'mage signs'. Justice is drawn to her…protective of her. He thinks of her as an 'essence of innocence'."

"Innocence inspires two reactions in people. People need to protect it or they need to destroy it. Could Justice be drawn to her just because she is so innocent?"

"He thinks of her as a kindred spirit…Neither of us can explain this attraction. I don't know what she is anymore, but I don't think she's human." He finishes off the drink.

"Do you think she's an abomination…merged with a spirit, like you?"

"There is no demon in her. I…tested her, like I did with that Templar that one time. You remember, what's his name…Keran. But even a spirit would have made itself known or defend itself and that didn't happen; besides, spirits do not seek out mortals. Justice can feel the fade in her, but spirits cannot exist outside the fade without a host."

"Maybe Merrill was wrong. Maybe she is a mage."

"Neither of us senses any magic in her."

"Then journey into the Fade to see what her nightmares are about."

"It's not that easy. The Fade is unimaginably huge and there are dangers, even for abominations. I don't know. I just don't know," Anders says, suddenly sounding very tired, as he rests his head in his hands.

"Why don't you get some sleep? I'll make sure no big bad Templars come to get you in the night." Hawke suggests with a teasing grin, her blue eyes sparkling.

"Thank you, Hawke. You have no idea what it means to have someone like you in my life." Anders says, wanting nothing more than to cup her face and kiss her but managing to resist the urge. She deserves someone with a future; someone better than him.


	2. Shadows in the Dark

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own anything, Dragon Age is not mine. The characters, game content and materials in the following story are copyrighted to BioWare. Neither I, nor this story, are endorsed by or affiliated with BioWare, or its licensors or subsidiaries. I do not receive any monetary compensation from the publication of this narrative. All Rights Reserved.

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**Chapter 2: Shadows in the Dark**

_"With passion'd breath does the darkness creep.  
It is the whisper in the night, the lie upon your sleep."  
Transfigurations 1:5_

..~~~**~~~..

"Captain, I found a missing persons report matching the description you gave," the young woman says, standing in the doorway, waiting to be acknowledged.

"Excellent work, thank you Guardsman," Aveline says, taking the report. "Guardsman, this can't be the right report," she says after a quick review of the folder.

"Captain?"

"This report is six years old."

"It is the only report fitting the description you gave," the guard protested.

"Very good. Dismissed," Aveline says, returning her attention to the report. She pours over the details and can make out only a couple of notes before leaning back in her seat. After a moment of thought, she heads for the archives; her gut is telling her that there must be more information somewhere.

..~~*~~..

With a heavy bag slung over his shoulder, Sebastian walks into Anders' clinic. His blue eyes scan the large room for blonde haired healer.

"Brother Sebastian, I'm surprised to see you," a middle aged woman says. She wipes her hands on a heavily soiled apron before hooking a stray strand of her red hair behind her ear.

"It's good to see you, Midge. The Chantry is conducting a charity drive. I thought your clinic could use some the blankets that were brought in," Sebastian explains as he offers her the large bag he brought with him.

"Thank you! This will indeed come in handy," Midge says with extreme gratitude.

"Is Anders around?"

"No, he left a couple of hours ago with Messere Hawke. I don't know where they went and I don't know when he'll be back. If you'll excuse me, I'll just put these in the back room."

"Here, let me help," Sebastian says as he lifts the heavy bag and follows her into a small room. Sebastian sets down the bag and looks around the room which is obviously used for storage and the production of poultices and salves. Midge thanks him again and begins unpacking the bag as Sebastian observes a young girl sitting in the corner working away with a mortar and pestle to grind something into powder .

"Well, hello there," he says in a friendly tone, casually approaching the child. "I don't think I've ever seen you before." He crouches down in front of her. "My name's Sebastian. What's your name?"

She looks up at him with her big, dark eyes, but says nothing.

"She doesn't speak. Hasn't said a word in the two weeks she's been here. Anders can't find anything physically preventing her from talking…" she shrugs. "He's been calling her Madia."

"Madia?"

"After his mother."

"That's a beautiful name," he says to the girl. She smiles, but the sadness in it touches him. "Does your family live around here?" She simply averts her gaze, a haunting look in her dark eyes.

"We're starting to think she might be an orphan. In the time she's been here no one has come looking for her. It's sad really," Midge says, watching Madia return to her task of pulverizing elfroot.

"I could ask around the Chantry, if you would like. Perhaps someone has been asking after her," he offers as he rises to his feet.

"If you think it will help, I'll not turn down aid when offered."

"Why is she staying here in the clinic?" Sebastian asks.

"The last time someone suggested she go the Chantry she ran off in a panic. It took us hours to find her."

"But Darktown is such a dangerous place."

"More children are born into poverty than into privilege," Midge argues almost defensively.

"Sadly true. Let Anders know I'll be back in a few days with more provisions."

..~~*~~..

Aveline spends the rest of the day and a good portion of her night searching through the reports of missing children in the Archivist's office within the Keep. It breaks her heart to see how many children are reported and how few are found. She narrows her search to those documents with similar details to those in the report Guardsman Nevil found, but that still left her with over a hundred reports. She sighs with frustration and leans back in the chair. She isn't even sure what she is looking for. All she has is a feeling in her gut that something is wrong.

"Aveline, you're becoming just like Ser Emric-looking for connections where none exist," she scolds herself while looking at the mound of reports before her. She had just decided to give up and call it a night when something catches her eye on the top report.

The 15th of Verimensis, it was the same date on the report she was brought that morning. She rifled through a few more reports and found that date again, and again, and yet again. She finds thirteen total reports in which children had been reported missing on the 15th of Verimensis, and all from the Chantry. They all matched in age and general description. If her hunch is correct, she only has eight days before another child would be reported missing.

Something is wrong. Something is terribly wrong here.

..~~*~~..

The cold doesn't bother Fenris. As far as he can remember it never has, but this is colder than his room should be. His bed is far too hard, it's as if he's sleeping on a rock. His eyes gradually open to a dark room, but then they slip back close. Something isn't right. His body doesn't feel right. It feels heavy and unresponsive, his mouth is dry, and he can't focus his thoughts. The terrifying thought that he's been drugged fills his muddled brain. He tries to sit up, and bumps his head on something hard. Confused he forces his eyes open and with great effort manages to focus them to investigate his surroundings. What he sees alarms him and forces the cobwebs from his brain-metal bars. He's in a cage. The damp, cold air and the smell of rock and dirt combined with the salt of the sea betray his location. He's in a holding cave, somewhere on the Wounded Coast.

"No!" he shouts in utter disbelief. The cage is barely large enough to allow him room to sit. The animal in him grabs the cage door and yanks it in an attempt to force it open. His armor and weapon are gone, leaving him in only his smallclothes.

He must have been drugged! How did they catch him? When was he drugged? And by whom? These are only a few of the thousands of questions running through his head as he tries to force the door open. This cage is bolted to the cave wall and floor, meaning his captors will have to move him at some point, and when that happens he will strike. He will do so without mercy or hesitation.

A sudden, heart stopping fear grips him in its icy grasp as a large black shadow with large glowing white eyes approaches. Its shape is vaguely humanoid, but not defined enough for Fenris to be certain.

"Now, now, there's no need for that," the shadow soothes in a deep, distorted voice. It smiles, revealing a mouth full of bright white fangs that flash in the dark. Fenris feels an overwhelming sense of desperation, and the need to put as much distance between him and shadow would not be ignored. He finds himself trying to back away, pressing his back into the bars with bruising force despite himself.

"Let's see that pretty face of yours," the shadow says, reaching through the cage as if the bars didn't exist to tenderly cup Fenris' face in its ice cold hand.

Fenris can't stop starring at the shadow's white glowing eyes. He can feel an impossibly cold thumb move across his cheek. Fenris breaks out into a cold sweat as terror is knotting his stomach and filling his mouth with a bitter taste.

"So perfect…so pure." The shadow's thumb adoringly runs over his lips. "If you're good and do as you're told you can go home. Do you want to go home?"

Fenris cannot find his voice; his rage fails him and he finds himself paralyzed with fear. He knows what the shadow wants from him. He had vowed long ago to never again submit and yet now he finds himself nodding in compliance.

"So sweet," the shadow says, pulling Fenris from the cage and leading him deeper into the cave.

"NO!" Fenris shouts, shredding his blankets as he leaps out of the bed. His room is bathed in a pale blue glow from the lyrium etched into his skin. His hands are in tight quivering fists, and there's a feral growl in his throat. His hate is a tangible force waiting to be unleashed. With no foe in sight, he takes his fury out on the end table as he lifts it and throws it across the room with a warrior's yell. The wood explodes against the stone wall. His anger sated for the moment, he collapses to his knees, hugging himself and rocking slightly. The blue glow fades to leave him alone in the dark with his memories.

..~~*~~..

It's just before dawn when Anders wakes up, his sleep having been filled with forbidden desires for Marian Hawke. He doesn't know which are worse-the Archdemon nightmares or the ache he feels for the blue-eyed rogue. He rubs his eyes and glances over at Madia's cot, and he is alarmed to find it empty. He quickly pulls on his boots and reaches for his coat, only to find her at his desk scribbling away on some parchment, his coat draped over her slender shoulders.

"What are you working on?" he asks with a friendly smile.

She looks over her shoulder at him, her face somber. His smile fades as he approaches to look at her drawing. The paper is taken up mostly by a large, black mass with glowing eyes and sharp teeth. Its clawed hands ready to snatch up the small running figure. Watching him approach she sets the quill back in the ink well.

"Is this what you're dreaming about?" he asks. She nods, looking back at her drawing.

"Is this you?" Anders points to the crudely drawn running figure, and, again, she nods as her little finger rubs the small scar by her left ear.

"Is this a demon?" he asks, pointing at the shadow. Madia shrugs, playing with the simple beaded bracelet on her wrist. He kneels down, gently gripping her chin and draws her eyes to his.

"Does this shadow talk to you? Does it promise you things?" he asks, almost fearing her answer.

She squeezes her eyes shut, tears spilling down her cheeks as she nods. Fear runs its icy fingers down his spine; demons are not usually attracted to a mage so young. They prefer those who have come into their full power. Yet, as far as he can tell, this child is no mage, so why would a demon seek her out?

"Madia, what does it promise you?" he asks carefully. She suddenly throws all the papers off the desk and runs out of the small room. He gives chases and quickly catches her.

"Madia, stop!" he orders, wrapping his arms about the child and lifting her off her feet. She makes a futile attempt to struggle as he pulls her close.

"It's okay," Anders says softly while sitting on the ground and pulling her into his lap. He holds her close as sobs rack her tiny form. "It'll be okay. I promise. I'll protect you. I'll teach you," he whispers, rocking her slightly. Her tiny hands clutch onto his shirt tightly as he gently tries to ease both of their fears.

..~~*~~..

"Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Your Grace," Aveline says as she follows the elderly woman into her office. The Grand Cleric's office is not what she expected. The room is barely larger than her office at the barracks. The walls are lined with bookshelves packed to the point of bursting; one bookshelf behind the desk is heavy with scrolls.

"Well, it's not often the Guard Captain requests an audience. Please have a seat and tell me how I can help." She gestures to the chair on the opposite side of the desk.

"I was wondering, would you mind taking a look at these names and tell me what you remember of them." Aveline offers over a list the thirteen children reported missing. Grand Cleric Elthina takes the paper and carefully reads each name listed.

"Sadly, I do not know these names. Who are they?"

"Children the Chantry have reported missing."

"Ah, in that case I would recommend you speak with Sister Catherine. She and Brother Craig tend to the children."

"Is it possible there are still some records here about these children that I may look through?" Aveline asks, taking her list back.

"If it will help find our missing children, then I'll make all the necessary arrangements immediately. If I may ask…what has sparked the interest of the Guard Captain herself?"

"I was going through some of the former captain's unresolved reports. I'm hoping a fresh pair of eyes may find something that was missed," Aveline hears herself say. She hopes the Maker will forgive this small lie, but there's no need to make powerful enemies without just cause.

"Thank you for your attentiveness in this matter," the Grand Cleric says genuine gratitude in her voice and eyes as she rises from her desk.

"Before I leave Your Grace, is there any significance to the 15th of Verimensis?" Aveline asks.

Elthina thinks for a long moment before answering, a touch of confusion in her stormy grey eyes. "No, not that I can think of. Why do you ask?"

"I've seen that date on a few of the reports and was wondering if it has any significance. Thank you for time and courtesy, Your Grace."

"Maker guide your steps, Guard Captain."

Aveline's armor clinks softly as she makes her way through the Chantry towards the exit when she hears someone call her name. "It isn't often I see you in the Chantry," Sebsatian says, approaching the red haired woman.

"I'm looking into some reports of missing children."

"At the Chantry?"

"It was the Chantry who reported them missing. You've been here for a while, right?" It's a long shot, but any information she can gather would help.

"I was promised to the Chantry when I was 13, remember?"

"Do you recognize any of these names?" she asks, offering Sebastian the same list she had shown the Grand Cleric.

"Yes, I do. Most of these are orphans who were given to the Chantry by the city."

"Most, but not all?" Aveline asks, taking her list back.

"I only know the last five names on your list. I cannot say about the others."

"And doesn't it strike you as odd that so many children are missing?" Aveline notes, careful to not be accusatory.

"When I was given to the Chantry, I was young, wild and not yet ready to devote my life to the Maker. With help I ran away."

"But you returned?" she asks.

"Yes I did, but some of the children who come to us…life in the Chantry just isn't for them."

"You make it sound like this is a common occurrence?"

"I wouldn't say it's common, but it does happen," he answers with a sad sigh.

"I've noticed there's a bit more activity in the Chantry of late," Aveline says, changing topics suddenly.

"Yes, we have a visitor coming. Brother Edrin, a messenger from Val Royeaux. He travels from Chantry to Chantry, bringing news mostly," Sebastian answers.

"When is he expected?"

"He's here every 10th of Verimensis, and leaves on the 14th. He brings news to our Archivist and often has sweets for the children who can correctly answer questions about the Chant of Light," Sebastian recalls with a fond grin.

"Thank you for your time. I should be getting back to the barracks."

..~~*~~..

The sun is low in the sky, casting long dark shadows in the Chantry courtyard. Dark, fat storm clouds are slowly rolling in on a bitterly cold wind. Thunder rumbles deep in the clouds overhead, threatening a freezing rain. Fenris slowly makes his way to the house of worship. His feet move sluggishly. His mind refused to let go of his nightmare. He had bathed in scalding water and scrubbed his skin until it was red and raw in an effort to wash away the feel of the shadow's touch on his body. Slowly, he climbs the steps of the sacred house. His breath comes out in large plumes as the temperature drops with the setting sun. He stands at the doors, hesitant. He doesn't know why he's here and sighs heavily. Perhaps Sebastian is right-is it possible that praying to the Maker would help ease his troubled mind?

He is about to open the door, when a small sound causes him to pause. He looks about, following the sound around a tight corner. He hesitates and listens carefully for the mysterious sound again. He is ready to give up and head back home when he hears the sound again. It's the sound of a child crying. Fenris follows the sobbing a little further down the narrow alleyway to a dead end, and he sees a young, dark haired girl in Chantry robes fidget with a brick in the wall.

"Is someone there?" he calls. The child looks up and lets out a startled gasp before escaping, crawling through a small hole in the back wall. His curiosity getting the better of him, he makes his way towards the wall the and uses his hands to explore the area that just held the child's attention. The light is rapidly fading. He's just about to give up when he finds a loose brick.

Fenris pulls his dagger and carefully pries the brick free. It exposes a small cubby hole filled with papers. He pulls out the papers and carefully replaces the brick before making his way back to the Chantry's doors. He flips through the pages, but cannot read what they say. Maybe Sebastian can help. He walks into the vast chapel, grateful for the warmth, and immediately finds Sebastian lighting candles in front the large statue of Andraste. The last surviving member of the Vael family kneels after lighting the candles and speaks softly, looking up at the statue.

"Look with mercy upon my family, Andraste, for they are now at your side. May the words of my heart reach you, Bride of the Maker." Sebastian then lowers his head. Fenris watches from the shadows, not wishing to interrupt the archer's prayers for his lost family.

Fenris is in awe of the strength of Sebastian's faith. The man's entire line, all the way down to the youngest babe, was slaughtered and yet he still kneels before the deity which allowed the atrocity to occur. The elven warrior finds he is almost envious of the peace Sebastian seems to have through his worship. He looks up at the Statue of Andraste and finds himself wondering if faith in the Maker could cleanse him of the burning hate he feels eating his soul. After a moment Sebastian regains his composure and rises to his feet.

"Fenris, what brings you to the Chantry?" Sebastian warmly greets, approaching the elven warrior.

"I found these and thought you should see them," Fenris answers, holding out the stack of papers he found.

"What have you there?" Sebastian takes the pages and begins leafing through them.

"What are they?" Fenris asks.

"Have you not read these?" Sebastian asks, still looking at the letters.

"No. I…only just found them," Fenris says, opting to not reveal his illiteracy.

"They look like a child's letters to the Maker. From what I've seen so far this young girl lived in the Chantry. There must be dozens of letters here. Where did you find these?" his blue eyes finally looking up from the papers.

"Behind a loose brick in one of the Chantry's outer walls."

"They look old. Do you mind if I keep these?"

"I have no use for them," Fenris answers with a shrug.

"Thank you, Fenris. It will be interesting to see the Chantry through the eyes of a child."

..~~*~~..

It was a good dream. Fenris had turned on Hawke. Anders was there to save her and then she insisted on showing him her gratitude. It was the type of gratitude that required little to no clothing. Yes, it was a very good dream…so why is he wide awake staring at the darkened ceiling? He sighs quietly and rolls onto his side, and he is startled to see Madia standing next to his cot in her dingy sleeping gown, her face somber, and midnight blue eyes void of emotion.

He gasps, and she slowly raises a finger to her pursed lips. He looks at her curiously as he listens. He can hear the wind blowing, the faint sound of lapping water, and little else. Where were the sounds of Darktown-people coughing, fighting and talking? Why could he not hear the activity of his clinic? He gets out of bed and reaches for his staff to cast an illumination spell, but his staff is missing. A touch of panic begins to settle in him. He casts the illumination spell, focusing it into a small ball of dim light which floats an inch above his hand. It's harder to maintain the spell this way, but the end result is the same.

A dim, bluish-white light reveals that they are no longer in his clinic, but in a cave. How did they get here? And when?

It's a rounded cave with several natural made shelves which hold the melted remains of candles. The wax dripped down the walls to pool on the earthen floor. The cot he is on is well worn, with little more than a thread bare blanket and flat pillow. A small chest at the foot of the cot holds promise. He quickly moves to examine the chest and its contents only to find the box filled with odd, little trinkets. He shuffles past the dolls, toy weapons, and cheap jewelry and finds a thick, leather-bound book at the bottom. He pulls the book out and opens it, hoping the contents might reveal their location only to find it written in a text he cannot decipher. He curses softly before dropping the useless book and looking at Maida, who is still standing in the center of the room. There is no fear in her expression. There is only the sad, lonely look he'd seen on her face too many times.

"Come on," he says, offering her his hand. "We're getting out of here," he adds, taking her hand and leading the way towards the only exit. He holds the glowing light out ahead of them as he slowly makes his way down the narrow, twisting passage. The pathway opens into a larger cavern with four small cages bolted into the walls. Light from the full moon dimly illuminates the new cavern; he extinguishes the spell by clasping his hand into a fist. Better save his magic for when he might need it. Evidence of small fires scar the cavern floor and the remains of meals and broken, stained bottles litter this area. Little scraps of parchment dance silently on the wind as he heads towards the mouth of the cave.

"And where do you think you're you going?" a deep, distorted voice asks in a mocking manner. Anders spins, keeping Madia behind him as he looks for the source of the voice only to find nothing.

"You're mine, pretty one," the voice teases. Anders grips the child's hand a little tighter. After a moment, still determined to escape, he hazards a step towards the mouth of the cave. He doesn't make it any further before an icy shadow rushes them, knocking Anders off his feet and engulfing Madia completely.

"MINE!" the shadow screams, and then a powerful burst of energy sends Anders flying out of the cave and over the cliff edge.

Anders wakes suddenly, and he is relieved to find himself in his own bed in Darktown. Images of the shadow consuming Madia flash behind his eyes. Dread fills him when he sees her cot is empty.

He pulls on his boots and rushes out to look for the child, forgetting his coat and staff in his eagerness to find her. His brown eyes scan the clinic. Finding no sign of his missing ward, he heads towards the exit. His steps quicken with each second he does not see her. His stomach is knotted with worry and his heart continues to race until he finds her.

She is standing at the railing just outside his clinic. She looks up at the sky as a freezing drizzle covers everything in a fine sheen of ice.

"Madia!" he exclaims, trying to keep the anxiety from his voice and succeeding to a point.

"What are you doing out here? Where's your coat?" he demands, then sighs. "You had me worried," he adds as he calmly walks up to her. She turns and looks at him with her red swollen eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

"Another nightmare?" he asks, crouching down next to her. She nods and throws her arms around his neck.

"The shadow again?" he asks, trying to calm her tears. He feels her nod. Anders holds her protectively in his arms, and he begins to wonder if Hawke is correct. A trip into the fade may be the only way to learn what is hunting her. He must consider this carefully as there are dangers in the fade that should not be taken lightly.


	3. The Mystery of Madia

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own anything, Dragon Age is not mine. The characters, game content and materials in the following story are copyrighted to BioWare. Neither I, nor this story, are endorsed by or affiliated with BioWare, or its licensors or subsidiaries. I do not receive any monetary compensation from the publication of this narrative. All Rights Reserved.

._._..~~~**~~~.._._.

**Chapter 3: The Mystery of Madia**

"_In the absence of light, shadows thrive."  
Threnodies 8:21_

..~~~**~~~..

Aveline has spent the entire day going through the Chantry's records regarding the missing children. Mother Ashley, the Archivist, while extremely helpful, is steadfast in her refusal to allow any of the files to leave the Chantry. Aveline has taken several pages of notes and is starting to feel overwhelmed. She crosses her arms on the desk and rests her head with a heavy sigh.

"It's nearing midnight, you know," Mother Ashley states with a small chuckle. Aveline simply groans.

"Getting a headache?" With a grin, Mother Ashley looks upon the exhausted guardswoman with kind amusement. Aveline groans again without looking up. The older woman chuckles and sets two glasses on the desk.

"I thought priests were forbidden to drink," Aveline comments while watching as both glasses are filled with brandy.

"Not forbidden, frowned upon, but not forbidden. And long as I don't make a drunken arse of myself no one is the wiser." Mother Ashley offers one of the glasses to Aveline. "Besides it's because of the Chantry's record keeping policies that the Maker gifts us with Antivan Brandy." The older woman smiles warmly and raises her glass.

Aveline chuckles and lifts her glass. "A fine point." The glasses clink softly. Aveline sips the thick spirit. She savors the slow, sweet burn down her throat.

Mother Ashley sits in the chair across from Aveline and casually reaches across the desk to pick up Aveline's list of names. "You know I wasn't always an Archivist, I use to help tend the children."

"Why did you stop?" Aveline leans back in her chair enjoying this break from her investigation.

"I got old." Mother Ashley laughs. "I can't keep up with five children, let alone twenty." She chuckles softly, her aging eyes still surveying the names. "I remember this one…Sonja. She had the most beautiful singing voice I have ever heard. When she sang the Chant of Light…" Mother Ashley closes her eyes and momentarily loses herself in the memory of the child's singing "you could _feel_ the Maker's presence." A melancholy look crosses her face when she opens her eyes. "She would teach the younger ones the chant and help them learn how to read and write. She brought her parents such pride."

"She wasn't an orphan? Her file says her parents were killed."

"She was orphaned after joining the Chantry. She'd been here for two years before her parents were murdered." Sadness touches the older woman's face. "I was the one who had to tell her the news. It was the last time she spoke or sang. The next year she disappeared." The Mother returns Aveline's list, her face etched in sorrow. "Nothing is sadder then when a child loses faith."

..~~*~~..

Sebastian wakes just before dawn and quickly finishes his Chantry duties. He sits in the courtyard and reads the letters Fenris brought him three days ago. Through these letters he has follows this child's life. He is there when she joins the Chantry. He knows her excitement when she begins making friends. He shares her joy at the birth of her sister, Devon. He feels her sorrow as the loss of the family cat, Fussy. As he reads he finds himself mentioned in one of these letters.

He reads the words a second time and is soon chuckling.

"Sebastian?" Elthina asks.

"Your Grace, forgive me I didn't hear you approach." Sebastian quickly leaps to his feet.

"What are you doing?"

"A friend found a stack of letters hidden in one of the Chantry walls; I was reading them and found myself mentioned." He offers the parchment to the Grand Cleric.

"I met someone new today. His name is Sebastian Vael. He seems really angry, I think it's because he talks funny." Elthina reads aloud, and then chuckles at the letter. "I think it's in reference to your Starkhaven accent," she says, handing him back the letter.

"It's odd, to look back at that time and see myself through someone else's eyes."

"You were indeed a very angry youth when you came to us."

"I wonder if she's still in the Chantry. The girl who wrote these letters, I mean," Sebastian ponders aloud. He returns his gaze to the letters in his hand. "It would be interesting to speak with her."

"The Archivist will have your answer; however, I would recommend you seek her out now. She will be very busy when Brother Edrin arrives."

..~~*~~..

Sebastian visits the Archivist as the Grand Cleric recommended, but the answer he receives is not what he is expecting. "Perhaps you should visit your guard friend."

_Why would Mother Ashley send me to Aveline? _He wonders silently. His curiosity getting the better of him he heads to the keep.

He sits outside the Guard Captain's office. He can hear voices coming through the door, but cannot make out the words. Sebastian decides to pass the time by reading more of the letters. He reaches into one of the pouches on his belt and pulls out the carefully folded stack. Many of the letters he reads are sweet and endearing, but this last one threatens to break his heart.

_I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to tattle. Brother Gavin says you hate snitches and that's why you killed mommy and poppa. I'm sorry. I won't do it again. I promise I won't ever talk or sing again, just please don't take sissy too!_

"Oh, you poor child," Sebastian hears himself say.

"Sebastian?" Aveline's voice pulls his attention from the letter. "What brings you here?" she asks, gesturing for him to follow her into her office.

"I am looking for someone and was referred to you." He folds the letters and replacing them in his pouch.

"I'm late for my patrol, we can walk and talk," she says, grabbing her sword and late husband's shield from the weapon rack.

"But you're the Guard Captain; surely you don't have to do patrols anymore."

"I choose to lead by example." She heads the way up the stair and into the keep. "So who are you looking for," Aveline asks, bringing the conversation back to the reason behind his visit.

"I'm not completely sure," he says with a wry chuckle.

"You don't know?"

"Well, not entirely. Fenris found these letters, and I'm hoping to find the woman who wrote them."

"Do you know what she looks like?"

"No, I do not. All I have is a name."

"A name without a face? That's not much to go on," Aveline says.

"I know. I don't know why the Archivist would send me to you." He chuckles. Aveline stops mid-stride and turns to face Sebastian, an odd look upon her face.

"The Chantry's Archivist sent you to me?"

He nods.

"Who are you looking for?"

"A young woman named Sonja Rebelyon."

"Sonja…" she stops mid-sentence. "Come with me, we need to talk." Aveline suddenly turns around and heads back towards her office with Sebastian close behind.

..~~*~~..

Ominously dark storm clouds are hovering just outside the city, but the skies over Kirkwall are clear with the sun shining brightly overhead. A crisp Verimensis breeze is blowing from the south slowly pushing the storm towards Sundermount and Kirkwall. Anders and Madia are walking through the Lowtown Bazaar buying a few provisions and enjoying the afternoon. Anders smiles and takes a deep breath, enjoying the smell of snow on the air.

"If we hurry, we can probably make it to the bakery just as the honeycakes are being pulled from the oven," he says. She smiles brightly and nods in agreement. She grabs his hand and begins leading the way. They don't get more than a few yards before the sounds of metal boots catch their attention. Quickly they leave the street and hide in a narrow alley. He presses himself flat against the wall and holds his breath, praying that the armored men just pass them by. Madia hides beside him, gripping his coat tightly and carefully peeking around him.

Anders reaches behind his back for his staff, pausing with his fingers inches away from their goal. Like most mages Anders has an illusion spell woven into his staff which renders it invisible to all save other mages. It's a simple spell without which every mage would be immediately identified and captured by Templars. Grabbing the staff will break the illusion spell and could alert the Templars to their presence.

After a moment of thought he clutches his staff. If he's going to be casting, he'd rather have the extra focus and power the staff provides. Luckily none of the Templars feel the spell slip.

His right hand grips Madia's shoulder protectively. His left hand tightens about his staff as he counts more than a dozen Templars. Despite the crisp air a fine layer of sweat begins to cover his brow, his heart is pounding in his throat.

_If they find us I could…no! Not with Madia here. We'll have to run._

If he starts running now the sudden movement could give away their position. He can't risk running just yet. His muscles tense in preparation. His mind is racing, plotting out an escape route and a safe haven. Anders can feel Justice stir, eager to strike against so many mage hunters.

He's a decent fighter, a powerful mage, and a damn good runner. However, he doubts he and Madia can outrun or outfight so many mage hunters; even with Justice's help.

"Andraste, please have mercy," Anders prays beneath his breath. Fear settles in his stomach like a rock as the line of Templars continues to pass them.

"It's the Grand Cleric!" he whispers. He watches the elderly woman go by as she and her escorts make their way through Lowtown.

Nearly forty Templars pass without noticing either the apostate or his ward. Anders breathes a sigh of relief and slumps to the ground. His muscles are aching and hands trembling from the flood of adrenaline.

"Thank the Maker," he says. Madia wraps her tiny arms about his neck. He returns her hug, placing a quick kiss on the top of her head. She looks up at him, the relief in her eyes matching what he feels. After a moment he stands and reaches backward to secure his staff to his back. He feels the familiar tingle of the illusion spell slipping into place.

"You know, I think those honeycakes are calling to us," he says with in a relieved tone, successfully pushing back his fear. She grins in approval, grabs his hand and leads him towards the bakery with a child's enthusiasm.

The baker greets them with a friendly smile as she wipes her plump hands on her apron. Her joy is reflected in her warm brown eyes as she offers Madia the larger of the two honeycakes.

"If you go in the back, I'll bet you my girl can find some sweet milk for you," She says to the child. With an eager grin Madia grabs her cake and runs towards the back of the shop where another woman meets her with friendly hug and a clay mug of sweet milk.

"Thank you, Natalie. How's your daughter?"

"I swear she's going to drop that babe any day now. We can't thank you enough for what you've done. When she came down with that fever, I couldn't afford to take her to the Circle for healing. I was so afraid I'd lose her and her baby. Come in the back; there be a lot of Templars out today and I ain't about to lose you to those sodding blighters." The baker hooks one of her chubby arms around Anders and guides him into the back of her shop.

"I saw at least three dozen Templars escorting the Grand Cleric. Any idea what's going on?" he asks.

"I heard talk that the Chantry has a visitor from Val Royeaux."

"Must be someone important if the Grand Cleric is going to the dock," Anders comments.

"Well, it ain't the Divine. Beyond that I don't know. How's the search going for Madia's family?"

Anders sighs heavily. "I've asked a friend in the guard for help, but it's been several days and I haven't heard anything from her or Lirene," he answers before biting into the gooey, sweet pastry.

"Bless her heart," she says, looking back at Madia. "Listen, if you want I can ask around; maybe get some clothes or shoes for your little one."

"_**My**_ little one?" he asks, almost choking on the mouthful of cake.

"If she's got no family, are you going to send her to the Chantry? Kick her to the street to fend for herself," she ask. Her hands rest on her wide hips as she studies him. He shakes his head. "Then what are you going to do?"

Anders looks over at the raven haired child. Her eager enjoyment of the sweet treat warms his heart. Almost as quickly, he feels confusion.

_What will I do? I won't send her to the Chantry, and I can't leave her to own devices. What then, let someone else raise the child?_ That thought stirs up powerful feelings, not all of which are his. It's difficult for him to imagine his life without her. But what will her presence mean to the Mage Resistance…to him?

Even Justice is conflicted.

"I…I don't know." He says softly, but deep down he already knows the answer.

..~~*~~..

Fenris' desire to talk to someone is bordering on need. His nightmares of this shadow are almost nightly.

Hawke is unavailable as she is looking into something for Aveline. Varric would listen, but he does not want this to be in any of the dwarf's tales. And Bethany…that makes him pause. It is odd that he would include a mage in the small circle of people he trusts. She has proven herself to be strong, yet gentle; always willing to help those around her and most of all trustworthy.

Occasionally he visits her at the Circle, but there is something diminished about her now. Her smile not as bright and eyes not as cheerful as before. It's like seeing a rare and beautiful bird caged. He respects her for staying. She told him that Anders snuck into the Circle once to help her escape and she refused, much to Anders dismay. Fenris has never met a finer mage.

Once again Fenris finds himself at the Chantry doors. With luck he will be able to speak with Sebastian. His sleep has been plagued by images of that small cave, the shadow and the things the shadow does to him. When he's not having nightmares of that blighted cave his sleep is filled with the longing he feels for Marian Hawke.

He walks in and immediately notices Sebastian praying to the statue of Andraste. Fenris waits for the archer to finish his prayers before drawing Sebastian's attention. He finds himself anxious, almost fidgety as he waits. He watches the floor as he paces, worshipers and clergy eye him but give him plenty of room. His muscles are tense and the air he gives off is that of repressed aggression. It isn't until he sees the Templars closely watching him did Fenris realize he was growling softly, his lyrium brands glowing ever so slightly. Fenris takes a deep breath and does his best to calm himself.

"Sebastian, I…" Fenris pauses, seeing something in his friend's face. "Are you all right?"

"I have been reading the letters you found and decided to see if I could find the young woman who wrote them." Sebastian starts, his mind still reeling from the information he learned from Aveline. "She was reported as a runaway by the Chantry six years ago."

"And," Fenris prompted.

"Aveline has been looking for a missing person report on Madia. The only report she found is for a young girl names Sonya Rebelyon; the author of these letters."

"This is good, is it not? We can now track down her family."

"The report was filed six years ago."

"Madia is a child of eight."

"I know, but the description matches, right down to that small y-shaped scar by her left ear."

"So what are you saying?"

"I don't know. None of this is making any sense." Sebastian sighs heavily and rubs the back of his neck. "But I'm sure you're here for more than a visit. What can I help you with?"

"I…it is nothing." Fenris says, choosing to keep his burden.

Sebastian studies Fenris for a moment. The elf is always on guard, always wary of another attack from his former master. However, this time something seems different. This is also Fenris' second visit to the Chantry in the past three days. "Are you sure? I'm always willing to help or listen." Sebastian gently presses.

"I'm sure, but thank you."

"If you don't have plans, Aveline has asked for help. Apparently she's received some complaints about disturbances up the wounded coast. I was just grabbing a few more arrows, before I meet up her. I'm sure she wouldn't mind the extra hand."

..~~*~~..

"Aveline! I'm glad I found you. Have you had any luck in finding Madia's family?" Anders asks, catching up with the red-haired guard just outside the city where she waited for Sebastian. The sun is low in the sky, casting long shadows across the landscape.

"In a manner of speaking I did find a missing persons report fitting Madia's description."

"Oh, that's…great," he says with mock enthusiasm. Panic lightly brushes against his heart at the thought of losing Madia.

"But the report was filed six years ago."

"Then it can't be Madia."

"I know, but the description in the report is a perfect match. I'm at a loss with Madia, but now have a new mystery. I have several reports of children all around the same age reported missing on the same day. I don't know what to make of it."

"What does that have to do with Madia?"

"Nothing. Everything. I don't know." Aveline sighs heavily. "All I know is that I have a report of a girl matching Madia's description reported missing on the same date as about 12 other children. But as far as Madia is concerned..." Aveline allows the sentence to trail off as she sighs in frustration.

"So what now?"

"She may very well be an orphan and if that's the case you have two options. Turn her over to the chantry-"

"Which I will not do!" Anders snaps, interrupting Aveline.

"-or raise her yourself," Aveline finishes her suggestion completely undaunted by the mage's sudden outburst.

Anders stammers, trying to find words before he blurts "I don't know how to raise a little girl."

"Does any father?" Aveline counters.

_Father._ That word hangs in his mind. It echoes its way down into his chest, wrapping his heart in a warm gentle hug. He never allowed himself to think that way about Madia before. It would've been too painful to let her go if and when her family showed up. But he has exhausted every means possible to locate her family. She is alone in this world, with no one to protect and care for her except him. He's been the one to feed and clothe her. He soothes her fears and protects her.

_But what kind of father will I be especially since I cannot give up the Mage Resistance. What kind of life is that for a little girl?_

Confusing feelings surge from Justice. Spirits do not procreate in a way that humans comprehend, and Justice is not sure why Anders is placing such value on the word _father. _Memories from Justice's former host, Kristoff, flash behind Anders' eyes. Kristoff and his wife, Aura, had wanted children but that was before the Joining. For him it was a quiet regret he buried deep and refused dwelled upon.

"Anders, are you joining us," Sebastian asks, bringing the mage out of his thoughts.

"Joining you for what?"

"I've had some complaints about a disturbance up the Wounded Coast." Aveline says in response to Anders' puzzled gaze.

"I suppose I could. A healer is always good to have around."

Fenris glares at Anders, and much to Aveline's relief he keeps his opinions of mages to himself. He freely admits that magic has its uses, but his feelings on mages and Anders in particular, are no secret. Aveline fills the long hike up the Wounded Coast is with information about the reported disturbances.

Conversation soon moves to Aveline's new mystery regarding the missing children. She shares what she's learned and the others volunteer their own observations and theories. Some are plausible while others are flat out ridiculous.

By the time they reach the area the moon is at its zenith. The group pauses and looks around, their breaths coming out in thick plumes. Suddenly a blood curdling scream slices through the air. It is just as Aveline had reported. Taking the lead she runs after the sound, leading the small team up a narrow winding path near the edge of the cliff. She pauses behind a small outcrop of rocks, her eyes fixed on the entrance to a small cave.

"Why have we stopped?" Sebastian asks careful to keep his voice low.

"I thought I saw someone go into that cave." Aveline answers, before making her way to the mouth of the cave. They begin to follow until Aveline signals for the others to hold back. She peers into the cave her eyes carefully scanning the darkness for any movement. Seeing none she gestures to the group to follow. Fenris unsheathes his two-handed sword and follows Aveline in, followed by Sebastian and finally Anders. Once inside the dark cave, Anders casts a simple spell, resulting in a pale bluish white light enveloping the top of his staff and illuminating the small cave.

Fear consumes both Anders and Fenris as they take in the scorch marks marring the cave floor, little scraps of parchment littered about and the small cages bolted to the ground. Fenris grips his weapon tighter, his heart racing as memories from his persistent nightmares creep into his mind. His skin breaks out in gooseflesh at the memory of the shadow's touch. He curses under his breath in Arcanum.

"Fenris?" Aveline questions, hearing the elf mutter. Before he can respond the soft sound of a child crying draws their attention to back of the cave. Signaling for Anders, and more importantly his light, to follow her Aveline slowly moves to the back of the cave. In the pale blue light she can see a narrow opening,

"The Veil feels weak here. We should be careful," Anders reports quietly.

"How could that happen," Sebastian asks.

"To _tear_ the Veil takes thousands of deaths or powerful blood magic. But there are some parts in Thedas where the Veil is weak naturally." With hesitant steps, Anders leads the way, softly muttering a prayer to the Maker that they don't find what he fears.

The passage is tight for several feet before opening up in a smaller cavern. After a moment of hesitation Anders sends a touch more magic into his spell. His staff flares up, shining brightly and burning away the shadows. To his horror it reveals a domed cave with several natural niches. Each shelf holds the melted remains of candles, multi-colored rivers of wax dripping down the walls to pool on the earthen floor. On the left side of the cavity sits a worn out cot with a thread bare blanket and flat pillow, a small wooden chest at the foot of the bed. Anders silently begs the Maker that he won't find the chest full of useless toys.

Fenris stops at the entrance his feet refusing to take him across the threshold. He cannot stop the flood of memories from the nightmares. The lyrium in Fenris' skin beginning to shine with the strength of his emotions. Sebastian eyes him in concern. The elf tightens his grip on his sword, his knuckles turning white from the effort.

"Fenris," Sebastian asks.

"This place is evil," Fenris snarls unable to enter that room.

"For once we agree." Anders states, he still incapable of opening that blighted chest.

"What has gotten into you two," Aveline demands.

"I've been here before…in a dream." Anders confesses.

"A nightmare." Fenris corrects through clenched teeth.

"In my…nightmare, this chest was filled with toys." Anders says his eyes still locked upon the box.

"Open it then and learn the truth," Aveline says her frustration by the sudden wariness of half her party obvious in her words. Anders still cannot bring himself to open the chest.

"Maker's breath mage move." Aveline orders as she pushes past Anders to throw open the dreaded box. Anders breath comes out in ragged pants as he backs away from the chest, stopping only when he bumps into a wall. Aveline looks at Anders, her expression unreadable as she pulls out an old tattered doll and a moldy teddy bear.

"There…there should be…a book. I remember a book written in some kind of code." Anders stammers, unable to keep the fear from his voice. Aveline rummages through the discarded toys, pausing when her fingers find a hard, rectangular shaped item at the bottom. Slowly she pulls the item to the top and finds herself staring at a thick leather bound book. She carefully opens to a random page as she rises to her feet. "It's written in code. It seems familiar, but I don't know from where," Aveline says. She tries to pass the book the Anders who refuses with a slight shake of his head. She then hands the book to Sebastian.

"I think I've seen this somewhere. I'll wager the Chantry will have the resources to translate this," Sebastian says, flipping through pages of the illegible writing.

"I'd like to leave now," Anders says in a soft and trembling voice.

"Seconded," Fenris agrees, suddenly feeling very trapped.


	4. Clues & Suspicions

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own anything, Dragon Age is not mine. The characters, game content and materials in the following story are copyrighted to BioWare. Neither I, nor this story, are endorsed by or affiliated with BioWare, or its licensors or subsidiaries. I do not receive any monetary compensation from the publication of this narrative. All Rights Reserved.

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**Chapter 4: Clues & Suspicions**

"_Those who bear false witness and work to deceive others know this:  
There is but one Truth. All things are known to our Maker and He shall judge their lies."  
Transfigurations 1:4_

..~~~**~~~..

It is the early hours of the morning by the time Anders returns to his clinic. He is exhausted and relieved that no one is waiting for his healing skills. Agnes greets him with a quiet smile and a quick update on Madia's day.

"Thank you for watching her," Anders says with sincere gratitude.

"She's an absolute angel. But she didn't eat much supper." She indicates the half eaten bowl of cold stew.

"Did Merrill bring this?"

"Yes, why?"

"Cooking is not one of Merrill's strong suites." He chuckles. "Where's Madia?" He barely manages to stifle a yawn.

"Sleeping."

"That sounds like a good idea. Good night, Agnes."

Anders slips past the thin curtain separating his living quarters from the rest to the clinic. The room is warm, dark and comforting. He lets out a tired breath as he leans his staff against the wall near his cot. Soft whimpers alert him to Madia's fitful sleep. He lights one of the candles on his small desk. A soft flickering light fills the tiny area. Anders gently places a hand on Madia's shoulder. Her eyes snap open.

"You were having another bad dream," he says softly. With glistening midnight blue eyes she throws her arms about his neck. He holds her tightly, pulling her onto his lap. It's a comfort for him as much as it is for her. Being in the cave brought back his nightmare of losing her.

"Your nightmares are getting worse, aren't they," he asks. She chokes back a sob and nods. He holds her a little tighter as he continues to assure her that he won't let anyone or anything hurt her. He rocks her as she cries softly. Anders winces internally when she wipes her nose on his coat.

He is teaching her everything he can about the Fade and the denizens who dwell there. He's instructing her on how to shield herself from demons and is working with her to improve her mental fortitude. He's teaching her meditation techniques to still her mind and even makes her teas from calming herbs. Still her nightmares persist. He fears there is little more he can do for her, in this realm at least.

_Justice, we need to go into the Fade. We must find what's haunting her._

Anders can feel the spirit stir within him. A dark and familiar want to destroy this child's tormentor fills him. This need swirls about inside Anders, consuming him until he no longer knows if this is his feelings or Vengeance's.

He closes his eyes, Anders has been avoiding the Fade ever since he merged with Justice, but some things are more important than his own desires. With the decision made he will need to gather a few supplies, but that wait until morning.

"You smell like elfroot and chocolate." Anders chuckles softly. Madia pulls back and looks at him with curious eyes. "Agnes has been 'paying' you to help make poultices again, hasn't she?" he accuses with a knowing smile. Her eyes fill with guilt as she nods.

"She spoils you." He says, placing a small kiss on her forehead. "Don't worry, your secret is safe." Anders says, tapping the end of her nose. She smiles sweetly at him.

He sighs heavily; now for the serious conversation. "Madia, my friends and I have been searching for your family, but no one has found them. It's been almost a month. I…don't think they survived." He sees her shoulders drop. Her eyes take on that sad, lonely look he's seen too many times in the past.

"Would you like to stay with me?"

Her face and eyes light up in the most heartwarming, brilliant smile he's ever seen. She nods emphatically and hugs him again.

With a smile he tucks her back into her cot and kisses her temple. He removes his coat and hangs it on the small peg embedded in the wall. "I have some errands to do in Hightown tomorrow," he informs before blowing out the candle. He sits on his cot to remove his boots. Still clothed he slips under the covers. With the Templars on the prowl it's quicker to throw on boots and a coat than it is to get completely dressed. "Do you want to come with me?"

She nods, but has a questioning look in her eyes.

"I ask because some of my errands will require me to be near the Chantry. I may even need to go inside, are you OK with that? I promise I will not leave your side."

She hesitates, her eyes dancing about. She is carefully considering his words before finally nodding.

"Then get some sleep. We're going to be busy tomorrow."

He's a father now. He and Justice now have even more reason to see every mage free.

..~~*~~..

An icy gust of wind viciously tugs at Sebastian's clothes and force him to take a half step back. He raises a hand to shield his eyes from the dirt being kicked up. Once the breeze dies down he looks around. He is desperately trying to figure out how he got back to that eerie cave. He clearly remembered leaving the cave with that book. He recalls making it back to the Chantry…but then what?

_Oh Maker, why am I here? _

His grip tightens on his bow, finding comfort in having it near. Suddenly the sound of movement pulls his attention towards the cave.

He gasps when he witnesses a large black shadow emerging from the cave mouth. In its arms the shadow seems to be carrying a small bundle. Its movements are slow and purposeful with all the reverence reserved for a sacred item.

It takes Sebastian's mind several minutes to recognize that the small bundle is actually a young dark haired child, whose face hidden by long curly locks. When the shadow passes, Sebastian sees the child's fingers twitch.

"Put the child down!" Sebastian hears himself order. He watches the shadow's slow progression to the cliff's edge. The shadow doesn't stop. Sebastian notches an arrow and repeats his command. When there is no response, he releases his arrow, aiming for the shadow's legs. He watches as the arrows sails harmlessly through the dark form and bounce off a rock. Again the child twitches. Sebastian can see the child's head moving, as the shadow stops at the cliff edge. He's rooted to the spot, powerless to intervene.

"Stop! Don't," Sebastian shouts.

The child screams as the shadow tosses it over the cliff like an unwanted toy. The blood chilling scream echoes through the air and sears itself into his brain.

"No!" Sebastian reaches out as though he could stop time. He collapses to his knees, in shock by the murder he's witnessed. The shadow now turns its attention to the archer.

"Now, now, there's no need for that." The shadow soothes in a rumbling unnatural voice. Its frigid hand reaching out to cup Sebastian's left cheek.

Sebastian awakes with a start, kicking off his covers as he scrambles to press his back to the headboard of his small bed. His face burns from the shadow's icy touch. His heart is racing and his breaths are escaping in quick frantic pants. Once he realizes he's safe in his room he relaxes and focuses on slowing his breathing.

His left cheek is so cold he fears the skin will crack if it moves. Hesitantly he touches his face. Relief flows through him to feel the warm, unblemished skin. With a shaky sigh he runs a trembling hand through his disheveled hair before getting out of bed. Sebastian sits at his small desk and lights a candle. He decides to focus on the puzzling book rather than trying to get back to sleep.

..~~*~~..

Fenris opens his eyes and sees the horrid alcove that has plagued his dreams for almost a month.

"No!" He leaps off of the nasty cot he's found himself in too many times. "I don't want to be here," he roars to the ceiling.

He collapses to his hands and knees, his head hanging. "Please, I don't want to be here." His voice is softer and desperate.

He is aware of a presence, and raises his head. He sees a small pale glowing form standing about 3 feet tall in front of him. Although he cannot make out any facial features the feeling he gets from this being is sympathy and understanding. The tiny figure holds out what he assumes to be a hand, after a moment Fenris collects himself enough to take that offer. Instantly he is consumed by the idea that he is safe and everything will be all right.

The tiny figure leads him away from the small cavern and into the main portion of the cave. The hairs on the back of Fenris' neck begin to rise and he breaks out in a cold sweat. The shadow is coming.

The glowing shape tightens its grip on his hand. It is a reassurance that he has nothing to fear. He is starting to feel less like a frightened child and more like himself.

"And where do you think you're going," the shadow asks once they reached the main cavern. Its hollow voice echoes in the cave, but unlike the other times Fenris feels no fear. The all-consuming, mind-numbing terror is replaced with the hate filled rage he knows all too well.

He swallows his hate, taking comfort in its familiarity and finding the determination to strike back against his nemesis. He wants to turn to fight this evil that has plagued him for so long. The figure continues to pull him forward towards the exit.

"I can fight it," Fenris states, pulling his hand free. His lyrium brands glowing brightly as he spins to face the back passageway. His hands are balled into tight fists. The warrior is ready to make his stand. Suddenly the ghostly white figure is in front of him. It's pushing him out of the cave with increasing determination.

"You're mine pretty one," the shadow taunts. The shadow slowly begins to fill the cave.

"I'm not afraid of you," Fenris shouts. His rage feeds into the lyrium, causing them to glow brightly, pushing the darkness back.

The shadow races towards them. The delicate glowing form pushes Fenris one last time before it is lost in the darkness

"MINE," the shadow bellows.

Fenris stumbles back, landing outside the cave. The faint sound of a child crying is the last thing he remembers before falling into a dreamless sleep.

..~~*~~..

Sebastian rubs his face and rakes his fingers through his tousled brown hair. Earlier that evening he showed the book to Sister Justine, the curator. According to her the text looks similar to the cypher the faithful used shortly after Andraste's death. She busily gathered nearly a half dozen books and four scrolls which she claimed would help. The pile of books and scrolls are now filling up his desk, leaving him little room to work. With an irritated sigh he stands up and stretches, he's been working on this book for more than an hour and has little to show for it.

_Obviously translation is not my strong suit, perhaps Sister Justine would be willing to help,_ he thinks as he looks at his single simple sentence.

The book seems to have 13 chapters. Each section consists of two or three entries and then a blank page separating one chapter from the next. He closes the book and leans back in his chair, frustrated from the lack of progress.

Sebastian moves to the small water basin and splashes water over his face and hair. He dries his face then combs back his hair. He stares at his reflection as his mind travels back to the reason is awake at three in the morning.

_If these are the types of nightmare Fenris and Anders are having it is no wonder they have an aversion to that…place. _

A small noise interrupts his thoughts. He listens carefully and hears the sound again, a child crying.

_Why would one of the children be up at this hour? And why would they be this far away from the Children's Dormitories?_

Slipping into his robe he leaves his room to investigate.

Moving quietly through the hallway he follows the sad sound out of the Brothers' Dormitory. He stares up at the larger than life statue of the Maker's Bride when he hears not only the soft weeping but also a voice. Unable to make out any words he follows the voice up the stairs and towards the guest quarters.

Just outside the guest rooms is a large sitting area complete with benches, tables, books and a large fireplace. The dying red glow from the fireplace plays across the figures of a pudgy man with a child on his lap. Quietly Sebastian creeps closer, still unable to make out anything the man or child are saying.

The man is oblivious to Sebastian's presence as he continues to speak to the child. One heavy arm is draped over the back of the child's shoulders. His other arm is waving about in a casual manner coming to rest on the child's leg.

"Brother Edrin," Sebastian asks upon recognizing the man.

"Sebastian," Edrin exclaims, startled by his sudden appearance. He set the young girl on the floor and quickly rises to his feet.

"What are you doing? The children should all be in bed asleep at this hour."

"She was having a nightmare." Edrin begins a little too quickly. "I was just calming her down and explaining that there's nothing to be afraid of." He continues in a much calmer tone.

"In your room, Brother?" Sebastian looks at the 7 year old girl. She gazes back at him her brown eyes wide and fearful. Her delicate features and chiseled nose proof that one of her parents was an elf. She's terrified at the amount of trouble she could be in for being not only out of bed but out of her dorm.

"I did not want to wake the other children," he explained, spreading his hands. "Here, have a sweet and go back to bed." Edrin says with a warm friendly smile as he pulls out a small treat wrapped in a waxy parchment from one of the pockets of his robe. The young girl hesitatingly takes the treat, her dark eyes never leaving Sebastian.

"No fears little one," Sebastian assures. "I won't tell on you." With a smile he watches the child scurry away.

"Such a precious child. So pure," Edrin says softly. He watches the child disappear down the stairs. "It is good to see you again," he says, redirecting his attention to Sebastian.

"I see Ser Aster still travels with you." Sebastian says in reference to Edrin's body guard, sleeping in the adjacent room. The older Templar looks to be of Ravaini descent with the dark complexion and dark eyes. His thick black wavy hair is just beginning turning white at the temples.

"Yes, he's a fine Templar and a good friend. We joined the Chantry about the same time you know." After a moment of silence Edrin turns his attention back to Sebastian. He expresses his condolences for the loss of the Vael family.

"Thank you. They are in my prayers daily," Sebastian responds. He moves to the railing, his gaze once again moving to the statue of Andraste that dominates the Chantry.

"Who would commit such an atrocity?" Edrin joins Sebastian at the railing.

"I don't know who hired the Flint Company Mercenaries, but I'm still searching. I have to know why. Why murder my entire family?" Sebastian sighs heavily. "Do you know what bothers me most about it? The children. What could my young nieces and nephews have possibly done to deserve that fate? Two of them were still in the cradle." His head drops as an overwhelming sensation of loss and loneliness fills him. Edrin places a comforting hand on Sebastian's shoulder.

"My time is limited, but I am here for you if you need me," the older man says.

"Thank you Brother Edrin. I appreciate that. It's late. I should let you get some sleep." Sebastian says, dismissing himself with a slight bow before returning to his room. Walking down the corridor leading to his room, Sebastian finds it curious that he could have heard the child's cries.

_How is it that no one else was awakened by it?_

Still lost in thought he moves quietly into his room and closes the door behind him. With a yawn he slips out of his robe. Exhaustion is finally making sleep seem appealing. He hangs up his robe, turns to his bed and freezes. Sitting in the middle of his bed on top of his disheveled blankets sits the mysterious book. With slow and careful steps he approaches his bed. He can clearly see the book open to the beginning of one of the chapters.

It was several minutes before Sebastian found the courage to close the book and return it to his desk. Almost an hour passes before Sebastian is able to surrender to sleep.

..~~*~~..

It is mid-morning by the time Anders wakes up. It is far later than he wants; however, a night's sleep without either the murmuring of darkspawn or Marian Hawke invading his dreams was more than welcome. He sits up, stretches and slips into his boots. Anders smiles softly at the image of Madia, curled under her blankets in a peaceful slumber. He's grateful that her nightmares did not return, and resents having to wake her. He sits on the edge of her cot and places a hand on her shoulder. Much to his surprise she doesn't wake. He gently shakes her with no response.

"Madia," another shake "…come on, dear-heart, it's time to wake up." He sighs with relief when she finally opens her eyes. Her gaze is groggy and her expression grumpy.

"Do you feel ok?" he asks, placing his wrist to her forehead, checking for a fever. She pushes his hand away and nods her head. He asks if she still wants to join him. Again she nods and sits up rubbing the sleep from her eyes. He finds himself smiling. She's cute when she grumpy.

He slips into his coat and ties his boots. He looks up in time to see Madia struggling to pull a brush through her tangled locks. Anders calls her over and gently finishes the job while he makes a mental note to speak with Agnes about how to style a little girl's hair. Madia's fat, soft curls fall neatly about her shoulders.

"Here." He hands her the brush, and kisses her temple. "Go change." He points to the changing screen Midge brought in for them. Madia has taken to Anders habit of sleeping in her clothes in the event that a quick escape is needed. While it's suitable for him to look ragged, he finds it unacceptable for her look unkempt.

He pulls what money he has from one of his pouches and finds two silvers and a few coppers. It's just enough to feed Madia, but not enough to feed them both. He replaces the coins with a soft sigh. He grabs his staff and secures it to the sheath on his back before turning to gather Madia.

..~~*~~..

Sebastian pulls himself out of bed to answer the pounding at his door. His body is sluggish, and his brain is still half asleep.

"Brother Sebastian, are you all right?" A young elven brother asks. He hooks a stray hair behind his pointed ear.

"I fell asleep a couple of hours ago, why?" Sebastian rubs the sleep from his eyes.

"We were wondering because you missed the morning service."

"What?!" Sebastian is now wide awake.

"Some of us were concerned, because you're never late."

"Oh Maker, my duties," Sebastian groans.

"Don't worry I've taken care of them; but you are well?"

"Yes I'm fine. I just had a rough night. Thank you, Brother Vern, I owe you one."

"Just keep that in mind if I ever oversleep," the elf teases waving as he leaves down the hallway.

Sebastian closes his door, leans against it and sighs heavily. He rubs his hands over his face. He has never overslept, never. Not even in his wild days when he was up until dawn did he oversleep and miss the morning service. Granted a few of those days he didn't go to bed until after service, but he was always there, and always on time. He drops his hands and opens his eyes.

With his morning duties done he has only a few tasks left to tend to before the rest of the day is his. He begins listing his tasks in his head, and then stops suddenly. His heart pounding and his hands begin to shake slightly when he sees the book on his desk is open to the same chapter it was last night.

..~~*~~..

Anders goes to the Keep first and talks to Aveline about what he needs to do to officially adopt Madia. Unfortunately, going through official channels will bring too much attention to him and risks the fury of the Templars. Aveline then points out that thousands of Fereldens came to Kirkwall during the Blight; some were orphans 'adopted' by others without any formal documentation. He leaves the Keep frustrated by the time lost, but somewhat relieved that he can claim her as his daughter without any paperwork. He stops at one of the merchants and purchases a small lunch for Madia.

The temperature is dropping at an alarming rate and grey clouds begin filling the sky. A brief gust of wind threatens snow. Inwardly Anders groans and he feels his shoulders tighten. Cold weather always fills his clinic with people looking for refuge from the weather. They loiter around, take up the cots needed for the sick and injured and usually steal anything not nailed down. When he remembers that Agnes is working the clinic today he relaxes a bit. She takes great pride in the clinic and will see to it that everything is secured before the hordes hit. Perhaps he should ask Hawke for a few coins so he can buy a couple days' worth of food for Madia and himself.

They round the corner heading towards the Hawke Estate. At the sight of the Chantry Madia pauses pulling Anders to a stop. He crouches down to be at eye level with her. After a moment she pulls her gaze from the Chantry, her dark eyes filled with fear.

"It's ok, dear-heart. I'm right here. I won't let anyone take you," he assures. She takes a deep breath, musters her courage and nods that she's ready to proceed. He kisses her forehead before continuing their walk. Her hand is tightly gripping his. The pair soon runs into Hawke and Sebastian in the Chantry courtyard.

"Hawke, can I talk to you for a minute?"

She nods and steps a few feet away so that she and Anders can speak in private. His heart skips a beat when she touches him and guides him away from Sebastian. Madia slips her hand out of Anders' and wanders over to Sebastian. When Anders calls to her she looks at him and smiles sweetly.

"I'll keep an eye on her," Sebastian offers. Anders glances at Madia, who makes a few small gestures with her hands, before he gives his consent. While in the Wardens, he met a Silent Sister who taught him some of her hand-speak. He, in turn, has been teaching Madia so that she can communicate with him.

Her tiny fingers begin tracing the family seal carved into Sebastian's bow.

"That's my family seal," he says, crouching down to allow her a better look. He knows the conversation will be somewhat one-sided, but he figures its better than ignoring her. She continues to trace the family seal. He points out the different components of the seal and explains what they represent. She listens intently to his explanation, pinching her eyebrows when she doesn't understand or nodding when she comprehends. When he finishes with his lesson, she stares at him, as if waiting for an answer.

"You want to know my family name?" he correctly reads her expression. She nods and once again begins fingering the crest. Her eyes understanding the significance of the symbols she is seeing.

"It's Vael. I'm Sebastian Vael."

Her head snaps, her eyes filled with recognition.

"I'm not surprised you know of my family, we are…we were…the ruling family of Starkhaven," he corrects remorsefully. "Bad people killed my family. I'm the last." He adds softly.

She wraps her tiny arms about his neck and gives him a reassuring hug. Despite his loss he smiles at her innocent gesture and returns her hug with a small thank you.

"Are you interested in archery? I could teach you," he pleasantly offers, successfully changing the topic. She smiles brightly and nods her head. He returns her smile and begins instructing her on the finer points of using the bow. She's an eager pupil, quickly absorbing his lessons. He does his best to explain aiming without notching an arrow. He chuckles when she tries to pull his bow. He then fondly explains how it took him many years to get the strength to use his grandfather's bow.

"It seems I owe you an apology Brother Sebastian." The familiar and friendly voice of Brother Edrin jokes. "It seems as if I brought the cold with me."

Sebastian rises to his feet to greet the older man, and his Templar shadow. Instantly Edrin's expression falls.

"By the Maker," Edrin gasps. His expression is a mix of shock and sick horror as he takes a step back. Ser Aster's hand flies to his weapon at the clergyman's alarm. Sebastian follows Edrin's gaze to Madia, who is staring back at Edrin. Sebastian is troubled by what he sees, her face is expressionless, but her eyes are no longer the eyes of a child. Those midnight blue eyes carry the burden of a dark and devastating knowledge. Information of something no child should ever have to know.

"What _are_ you," Edrin whispers, fear trickling into his voice.

The look in Madia's eyes fades from knowledge to hate. Despite himself, Sebastian gasps, her gaze flickers over to Sebastian before she runs to Anders. She nearly topples the mage over as she grabs him. She cowers behind Anders; her eyes are now those of a terrified child as she watches Edrin approach.

"Who are you?" He demands again, stalking towards the terrified child.

"Brother Edrin! Stop!" Sebastian grabs Edrin and prevents him from advancing any further. Ser Aster follows suit grabbing Edrin's other arm. Anders shifts his weight, readying a spell without his staff. Hawke moves subtly giving herself room to maneuver if a fight occurs.

"Who are you?" Edrin struggles against the men's grip.

"She's my daughter," Anders counters. He reaches into himself and touches the magic that resides there. If Edrin comes one step closer, Anders will unleash a burst of mana that will stun the brother. But with a Templar so close it will buy the mage barely enough time make it to a nearby hidden passage.

"Brother Edrin," Sebastian shouts. The older clergy stops struggling and looks at Sebastian and Aster as if he just realized they are there. He stops struggling and backs away muttering something about praying as he heads back into the Chantry. A stoic Ser Aster follows closely.

Certain the threat has passed, Anders releases the summoned mana, taking it back into himself. He then turns his attention to a frightened Madia.

"What was that about?" Hawke asks of Sebastian.

"I've no clue," Sebastian answers and then turns this attention to Anders. Hawke continues to watch Edrin's retreat into the Chantry.

"Your…daughter?" confusion obvious in Sebastian's voice.

"I have made every attempt to find her family. I've looked, Lirene has looked, and even you and Aveline have looked. I don't think she has any family." Her arms wrap about his neck as he rubs her back in a comforting manner.

"But you're an….that is you lead a dangerous life," Sebastian points out. He is dancing around the fact that Anders is not only an apostate and a rebel Grey Warden, but also an abomination.

The look in Anders' eyes in dangerous as he picks up the softly sobbing child. She wraps her legs about him, which helps with his balance. Anders catches the implication behind Sebastian's protest. His anger demands an outlet so he strikes out at the cause.

"_Life_ is dangerous," he growls through clenched teeth. "Look to your own family for that evidence." It's a low blow and Anders knows it. Without another word he leaves Hightown.

..~~*~~..

Edrin finds he cannot pray, he's too rattled by his encounter with that child. He returns to his room and paces. Ser Aster is sitting in a nearby chair, watching Edrin's floor eating stride.

"It can't be her. It cannot be," he mutters to himself. But there is no mistaking those large midnight blue eyes.

"I know that Edrin," he says in a calm and flat tone.

"Then how…? Who…?"

"Brother Edrin," Sebastian quietly calls from the landing.

"Yes, Brother Sebastian," Edrin acknowledges, as he finally stop pacing.

"What happened? Out there with the girl."

Edrin sits on one of the chairs in the decorated room and cradles his head in his hands. Sebastian takes the opening as an invitation and sits in the chair across from Edrin. The older clergyman takes a breath and gathers his thoughts.

"I was not born in the Chantry, Sebastian. In my younger days I was a wild and oh so fond of the fairer sex, as I'm sure you can relate." Edrin tries to smile, but fails. "One girl in particular held my fancy more than any other. An elf named Ashlay. We never married, but we did live together for a time." He sighs heavily and runs his shaking hands through his thick, greying blonde hair. "Then she became pregnant. It was unplanned and neither of us was ready for parenthood, but we tried. She gave me a daughter with black curls and eyes such a deep blue you'd think they were black, her mother's eyes. We named her Lyssa. We managed to stay together for five years, the three of us."

Edrin sits back in his chair, his eyes staring forward, but not seeing anything. "I tried to be a good father, but I was a slave to my vices in those days. I either could not or would not give up my wine and women. After five years Ashlay couldn't take it anymore. It was stormy the night of our last fight. She wanted me to be more responsible, to stop acting so selfishly. Oh Maker, how she raged and shouted. I screamed right back at her. I called her… several unkind things. I will never forget the pain in her eyes. Crying she took Lyssa and ran out of our shack. While crossing the street she ran in front of a Merchant's cart. He…he couldn't stop in time." Edrin swallowed the lump in his throat. "They both died. I may not have loved Ashlay like she wanted, but Lyssa was my little girl and I loved her with all my being. It wasn't long after that I joined the Chantry."

"I am so sorry for your loss."

Edrin finally looks over at Sebastian with a dry chuckle. "I haven't thought about either of them in decades. Seeing that little girl…seeing those eyes brought it all back. I am so sorry I frightened her and upset her father. I…I should find them, try to make amends. Apologize."

"I wouldn't recommend that. Not yet, at least." Sebastian advises.

"Thank you…Sebastian…for hearing me out."

Sebastian gives a small friendly smile, and then excuses himself to tend to his afternoon duties.

..~~*~~..

Anders storms into his crowded clinic, still carrying Madia. Despite his anger he knows Sebastian is right.

_Damn the blighted 'choir boy', he is right._

He never told Madia about Justice. He knows he cannot raise her, and teach her the truth about mages, while keeping this secret. He has to tell her.

"Anders…" Agnes starts, relieved to see the mage.

"Not now," he snarls. He continues making his way towards the small private room in the back.

"But…"

"It can wait," he snaps. Slipping into the room and he sets Madia down on her cot. He has to tell her, he cannot keep this from her any longer.

"Madia, dear-heart," he starts in a calmer tone "…there's something I need to tell you. And you might not like it." He kneels down in front of her. "You remember my telling you that I'm Grey Warden and that I left the order?"

She nods cautiously.

He remembers telling her he was a Warden. The look on her face was a mix of sheer joy and pride. One would have thought he told her he's the king of Ice Cream Land and she can have all the chocolate sprinkles she wants.

"There's a reason I left," he begins, unable to look her in the face. If she rejects this and denies him, he will be utterly devastated. He doubts he's strong enough to face her rejection.

"When I was a Warden I met a spirit of justice who was trapped outside the Fade. We became friends," he says softly, running his thumb over her tiny knuckles. "In order to remain outside the Fade he needed a host and…I volunteered. I'm what's known as an abomination. A mage possessed by a citizen of the Fade." there he said it, now he waits for her to run away from him. He knows what children are taught about abominations, they are the bogeymen of mage and mundane alike. He still can't find the strength to look at her. Tiny hands cup his face and tilt it back until he's looking into her deep midnight blue eyes. Those eyes look at him intently, waiting for the bad news.

"That's it. I'm an abomination." He sums up. He is both confused and relieved by her lack of disgust. She smiles her sweet smile and makes a single word with her hands. Anders nearly chokes on his tears as he pulls her into his arms and holds her close. That one word solidified everything.

She calls him Papa.

"Well then, now that that's out of the way," he says drying the tears from his eyes. "…shall we see what Agnes wanted?"

She smiles and nods enthusiastically, taking his hand.

..~~*~~..

Sebastian arches his back, and wipes the sweat from his brow. He is helping one of the Lay Brothers chop wood for the Chantry's fireplaces and kitchen. It's hard work, but rewarding.

"I'm going to get cleaned up for supper."

"Sounds like a good idea," the brother agrees.

Sebastian starts walking towards the Brother's Dorms, looking forward to hot bath before supper.

"Brother Sebastian," Sister Justine says breathlessly. She rushes towards him, cradling a familiar book to her chest.

"Sister Jus-"

"Take it back!" she exclaims, thrusting the book towards him. Her eyes are glistening with unshed tears. "I can't…I can't translate anymore." Tears now spilling down her cheeks she tries to unsuccessfully to blink them back.

"What's wrong," Sebastian asks in a soothing voice. He places a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I translated the chapter you asked," she begins. "I won't…" Tears continue to run down her cheeks. "You don't know," she chokes back a sob. "Take your blighted book. I never want to see it again!" Again she pushes the book into his chest and turns to run down the hall. She does not care if the book falls to the ground or not. Sebastian fumbles to catch the book, and manages to keep it from hitting the floor.

Confused, Sebastian walks towards his room. He pulls out the sheets Sister Justine had put her translations on. Reading as he walks he begins to understand her reaction. The more he reads the more sick he feels and the more he regrets having asked anyone else to decipher the book.


	5. Accusations

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own anything, Dragon Age is not mine. The characters, game content and materials in the following story are copyrighted to BioWare. Neither I, nor this story, are endorsed by or affiliated with BioWare, or its licensors or subsidiaries. I do not receive any monetary compensation from the publication of this narrative. All Rights Reserved.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** I am using the term physiker (pronounced as fizz-icker) to describe all non-mages who are trained in the healing arts (the phrase doctor seemed too mundane and modern).

*_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._..~~~**~~~.._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._*

**Chapter 5: Accusations **

"_Maker, though the darkness comes upon me, I shall embrace the light. I shall weather the storm. I shall endure. What you have created, no one can tear asunder."_

_Trials 1:10_

..~~~**~~~..

It began snowing in the dark of the morning, covering Kirkwall in a fine layer of glistening, white snow. Flurries continue to slowly drift from the heavens, but the smell in the air promises more. The Kirkwallers are fascinated by the delicate white flakes drifting lazily to the ground. The Fereldens are bustling about gathering provisions and enough supplies to last for several days. Ferelden and Kirkwaller each eyeing the other, believing the other is insane.

Brother Edrin does indeed keep the Archivist busy updating the existing files. She, like others in her position, keeps a running list of changes she makes to her records throughout the year; now she has to update her files with the changes made in the other Chantries.

She manually notates the clergy who have relocated, or passed on; elevations and new initiates as well as some new policies are only a few of the changes she needs to make. Mother Ashley has been writing since before the sun rose and now, early in the afternoon, the cramp in her hand refuses to be ignored for another moment. With a tired sigh she sets her quill down and massages the stiffness from her aching limb.

"You know a Chantry this size really should have an apprentice Archivist," Ser Aster says, while leaning casually against the door way.

"I agree." Mother Ashley returns his smile, still trying to work the cramp out. "My apprentice was reassigned to Denerim. A request has been submitted for said and desired apprentice, but alas the position is still open."

Ser Aster approaches her and takes her sore hand. Slowly he begins massaging her palm and fingers, gradually working out the knots.

"I'm sure something can be done to get you an apprentice." He keeps his dark eyes on his work as he speaks. His strong, clever fingers find and work out all of the knots.

"I'm beginning to think it would take an act from the Divine." She chuckles.

"Such a thing could be arranged." Ser Aster rolls his eyes up to look at Mother Ashley, whose joyous expression has become cautiously serious. He releases her hand, the knot thoroughly worked out. Slowly she brings it to rest on her lap.

"Such favors are rarely without cost," she says her eyes as careful as her tone.

He shrugs, flashing his most charming smile. "I just have a few harmless questions about some of Brother Sebastian's friends."

..~~*~~..

Sebastian sits in Aveline's office at the barracks, grateful for the warmth and hot tea. The first time Aveline reads the translation her face pales, but her eyes burn with fury. Then she reads the pages a second time, making notes. She reads the pages a third and final time, making even more notes before turning the translation upside down on her desk.

"And I thought darkspawn were monsters." Her calmness is hiding the depth of her rage. "Who could do," she gestures to the pages "that to a child?"

Sebastian had only been able to read the translation once and he could barely stomach it the once. He shook his head, trying too hard to forget the graphic details he had read the previous night.

"And then to write it down," she picked up the book. "Look at this book. This…fiend reads this filth. Relives the torture these children went through," she growls as she indicates the heavily thumbed pages.

"We need to find this Brother Gavin." Aveline points to her notes. "I don't think he's involved, but he may know something." She hands Sebastian back the book and translation.

"There is no Brother Gavin in Kirkwall's Chantry, and the Archivist is not available."

"Varric." Aveline says, standing up.

"Varric?"

"That damn dwarf knows everything about Kirkwall. If your Archivist cannot help us I'll bet you a month's pay that he can. Grab your cloak; we're heading to the Hanged Man."

..~~*~~..

The Hanged Man is a filthy, rat hole of a bar with more dirt on the floor than on the earthen walk ways outside. The drinks here are cheap, watered down and no one eats the food. The counter tops are warped and scarred with graffiti, the most notable warning patrons away from the cheese. It's also a popular watering hole for both the working and lower class alike. The tavern is always full of loud, off key singing, laughter and the occasional drunken brawl. Upstairs from the tavern are several dank and drafty rooms for rent and the occupants have the option of paying by the hour or by the night.

There is one exception; the largest room at the top of the stairs. That room has no doors, and yet it's clean, warm and no one ever enters that room without permission. Its furnishings are expensive and sturdy with powerful straight lines and intricate dwarven designs. The owner of that room never receives watered down drinks and he never pays full price, but even he does not eat the food at the Hanged Man. That room is the private property of Varric Tethras, the merchant prince of Kirkwall.

"Gavin? Gavin Colth? Why are you two interested in that son of a motherless nug licker?" Varric sets down the papers he was reading.

"Nug…licker," Sebastian asks, raising an eyebrow at that particular mental image.

"There have been a series of disappearances and his name has come up," Aveline explains, ignoring Sebastian.

"Hmm, suspect or witness?"

"Varric," Aveline warns, her powerful arms crossing over her chest.

"What?" Varric shrugs, confused by Aveline's warning.

"I won't have you impeding my investigation," she explains. She leans on the table and locks eyes with Varric.

"I'm not impeding, I'm just curious." Varric leans back in his chair smiling, his fingers laced together as he waits for Aveline's answer.

"Damn it dwarf!"

Varric just continues to smile until Aveline finally caves in admitting Gavin might be a witness.

"Gavin was indeed a member of the Chantry, but he didn't join out of any overwhelming love for the Maker. He was a two-bit thief who made a few too many enemies and figured the safest place to be was the Chantry." Varric leans towards them, more for dramatic undertones than anything else. "And he was right, but Gavin has sticky fingers and was caught stealing from the donation box."

"He _stole_ from the _Chantry_," Sebastian asks, utter disbelief in his voice.

"Not his first time either. He got himself excommunicated by the Grand Cleric herself," Varric reports in a cheerful tone, leaning back in his chair.

"Is he still in Kirwall," Aveline asks.

"Yep, he ended up owing a lot of people a lot of money, including Harlan and Lusine. Harlan wanted to kill Gavin, but Lusine had a more…practical solution."

"Where is he," Aveline asks.

"Gavin is working off his debt over at the Blooming Rose."

"Thank you Varric." Aveline says, gesturing for Sebastian to follow her.

"Where to now," Sebastian asks as he throws his woolen cloak over his shoulders.

"The Blooming Rose to speak with Gavin," she answers as if the answer should have been obvious.

"Oh joy, the brothel…again. Elthina will be so proud," he says humorlessly beneath his breath.

..~~*~~..

Anders is sleeping on his right side under a thick layer of blankets. His right arm folded under his head acting as a pillow while his left arm lays protectively over Madia. The dark haired child clings to his arm as if it were a teddy bear. Her dark curls a splash across a small, hand embroidered pillow.

"Anders," Agnes softly calls, placing a hand on his shoulder. It's almost noon and Anders hasn't even moved, let alone shown any sign of consciousness. She gives a soft shake hoping to pull the mage from his slumber, but without success.

"This isn't like him." Midge tightens her grip on her shawl. "He's a light sleeper what with the nightmares and all. And Madia..." her voice trails off.

"I do know that they were up late helping people; and since they're both breathing, I say we let them rest. We can run the clinic." Agnes straightens up and straightens her skirts.

"What if Templars come?" Midge asks.

"We block the entrance to this room. When Anders wakes up, he'll see the barricade, assume something is wrong and use the secret exit in the back. I'm just wondering what we're going to tell his friends."

"He's sick," Midge suggests, nervously wringing her hands.

"We're going to tell them that the _healer_ is sick." The look in her eyes matching her tone of voice. Midge obviously did not think before she spoke.

"How about he's sleeping. He _was_ up late, and some of the healing he did _was_ intense. It's reasonable that he exhausted himself," Midge suggests.

Agnes nods, liking the story. "Sounds better than 'the healer is sick'. Come on; let's get some of the men out there to move those boxes."

..~~*~~..

Each time Hawke drags Sebastian into the brothel she's so focused on her goal that he is left to his own devices regarding how to fend off the unwanted attention. He learned early that reciting the Chant works quite effectively at keeping the 'employees' at bay. As they approach the house of ill repute he already has six quotes prepared. However, as he soon discovers, Aveline's presence alone seems to be enough of a deterrent, and sighs with relief.

It takes Aveline only a few moments to convince Madam Lusine to allow the interview with Gavin. Lusine, with forced politeness, ask if they will wait in the small dining room.

"Captain of the City Guardsmen and clergy are bad for business," Lusine says before leaving to find Gavin.

Sebastian leans against the small, yet sturdy table, his arms crossed over his chest as he watches Aveline. It's been ten minutes since Lusine left to find Gavin. Aveline paces about the small room, her irritation increasing with each step.

"If he is not here in the next 30 seconds I'm going to start looking for him," Aveline growls in frustration.

"What if he's…with a client?"

"At this point I don't care if he's confessing his sins to the Divine herself." To prove her point, Aveline begins counting the seconds aloud. Fortunately for Sebastian, the door opens by the time she's reached 26.

A dark haired elf with forest green eyes walks into the room with a playful smile upon his lips. His smile; however, soon fades when he sees Sebastian and Aveline.

"Oh, she was serious," Gavin says, and then pokes his head out of the door calling to Viveka to bring him some ale. Viveka smiles sweetly and in a friendly tone advises the elf to 'piss off.' Gavin sighs and returns his attention to an annoyed Aveline.

"When Lusine said the Guard Captain and a Brother were waiting for me, I thought she was joking. Why are you here," he asks, making himself comfortable in one of the chairs near the small fireplace.

"Do you remember a girl named Sonya?"

"Maybe…I see a lot of people in a day." Gavin's tone is playful but his eyes are tired and haunted.

"You were a Brother when you knew her," Sebastian clarifies. Gavin's face immediately changes; his arms cross over his chest and his eyes narrow defensively. His posture stiffens at the sudden interrogation.

"What do you know of her disappearance," Aveline asks.

"Only that I had nothing to do with it," Gavin snaps, his tone as shielded as his eyes.

"Not good enough, elf. You get excommunicated and the next day Sonya goes missing," Aveline counters.

"I'm a lot of things, and I have done a lot of things. But I've never harmed a child."

"You cannot be serious," Sebastian shouts. His anger is so sudden and so intense that Aveline prepares to hold him back. "You told a child that the Maker killed her family because she reported your thievery! Did you not think that would harm her? Shatter her faith?"

"If the little bitch had kept her trap shut I wouldn't have been kicked out," Gavin retorts, rising to his feet.

"How dare you," Sebastian growls as he takes a step towards Gavin in a threatening manner. Aveline quickly grabs Sebastian and pushes him back, placing herself between the two men.

"Stiffen up," she firmly warns. She refuses to release Sebastian's arms until he nods that he has his anger under control.

"You leave the Chantry on the 14th and Sonya is reported missing on the 15th. It's too much of a coincidence," Aveline firmly states.

"You're pointing fingers in the wrong direction, human," He snarls while pointing at Aveline "The night I 'left' the Chantry I went to the Hanged Man, got drunk, started a fight and ended up in jail. I was there for two days. Check your records."

"I'll do that. And if you're lying I _will_ be back," Aveline warns.

"You know she's not the only child to go missing on the 15th. Isn't it funny how that coincides with a certain out of town visitor?" Gavin retorts, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You dare suggest that Brother Edrin or Ser Aster is involved." Sebastian's temper threatens to explode.

"He leaves on the 14th and she is reported missing on the 15th. It's too much of a coincidence," Gavin says, deliberately throwing Aveline's words back at them. Lusine walks in to inform Gavin that his appointment is waiting. Gavin throws a knowing smile to Aveline as he leaves the room.

..~~*~~..

Fenris finds himself in the Chantry, but with no memory of how he got there. He stands in front of the statue of Andraste looking up at her peaceful expression. He knows he's here to speak with Sebastian, but for the life of him cannot remember what about.

"Can I help you?" a young elven brother asks.

"I'm looking for Sebastian."

"Were you a friend of his," the brother asks, his pleasant expression becoming sorrowful. "He had an accident and passed away."

"What do you mean an accident? When?" Fenris' head is swimming; he refuses to believe that his friend, a man whom she spoke with only days ago is now gone.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but it looks as if he was practicing and shot himself in the back. It killed him."

"Are you telling me he shot himself in the back? How does a man shoot himself in the back?"

"That is what the witness reported," the brother answered his smile once again friendly.

"Did it ever occur to you that this witness lied?" Fenris' shock begins turning into rage. Who would believe such a ridiculous tale?

"Who would lie to the Chantry? If you'll excuse me I have duties to attend to."

Fenris stutters, unable to halt the clergyman's retreat. He looks back to the statue of Andraste and a soft voice echoes in his head.

_**He had such faith in you.**_

Fenris wakes suddenly, it is the same nightmare he's had every time he closes his eyes for nearly three days. When he isn't sleeping he has a persistent and overwhelming feeling that Sebastian is in danger. But just earlier today he saw Sebastian and Aveline heading towards Lowtown and surely he would be safe with her. But neither the dream nor the feeling would go away; he rubs his hands over his face.

_Perhaps a quick visit to Chantry would not be such a bad thing._

..~~*~~..

The wind dropped in temperature and drastically increased in intensity. It howls and whips about the city like an angry demon. The delicate little flurries that enraptured half the city that morning have lost their novelty. Larger flakes fall in a heavy curtain, reducing visibility to only a few yards. Aveline stifles a curse as she holds her cloak tightly about her. The interview with Gavin took longer than she had expected.

"Maker's breath," Sebastian exclaims upon seeing the thick blanket of snow that was now covering Kirkwall. He shivers and huddles in his thick cloak, teeth chattering. "I'm sorry Aveline. I didn't mean to lose my temper like that." Sebastian says, shouting to be heard over the sudden wind gust.

"That bastard knows something," Aveline says, more to herself than to Sebastian.

"What," he questions, picking up his pace in order to keep up with her. His eagerness to get to their next destination helps him keep pace with Aveline despite the biting wind.

"How long has Brother Edrin been a member of the Chantry?"

"About 30 years."

"And Ser Aster?"

"About the same, or so I'm told."

"How long have they been touring the various Chantries?"

"Twenty years or so." A thought suddenly occurs to him. "Surely you don't think they have something to do with this," Sebastian asks through chattering teeth.

"Do you remember that list of names I showed you? All 13 of those children were reported missing on the 15th. And if this pattern holds true then I only have 3 days until another child goes missing from the Chantry. I don't want to think a brother or a Templar is involved, but I'm running out of leads. Have you noticed anything strange about either of one of them," Aveline asks, shaking as another icy blast of wind flows up under her cloak and around her body.

"No," he answers. He is unable to get the image of a warm fire and hot cup of tea out of his head. "Where are we heading now," he asks.

"Home before the blizzard really hits."

"Blizzard?"

"Yes, blizzard. You see the snow and feel the wind; believe me it will only get worse."

"But this is Kirkwall. We rarely get snow this far north."

"That just makes me glad I'm not in Ferelden. Tell me, have you seen any animals out today? Cats? Dogs? Birds? Anything?"

He had to think about that, even in winter there are strays in the streets and birds in the sky. "No, I haven't."

"Animals know when bad weather is approaching, and being Ferelden I recognize the signs. Blizzards are nothing new to me."

..~~*~~..

Lirene sets down the small basket of food she brought and crouches down beside the sleeping forms of Anders and Madia; according to Agnes neither have moved all day. Unable to see much in the dark room, she lights a small oil lamp, but is careful to keep the flame low. Setting the lamp on the floor opposite her basket she tries to shake Anders awake without success.

"Anders." Again, she gets no response from the sleeping mage.

In the dim light she can see that both Anders and Madia are still breathing, but their complexions are pale. She give his shoulder another shake, but without success. Gently she places a hand to Anders' forehead and is alarmed when he is cool and clammy to the touch. She repeats this with the child and Madia too is cool and clammy to the touch.

Lirene decides to take Madia out of the small room and into the clinic in order for Agnes to examine the child. The woman is no healer, but she is a skilled physiker in her own right. She is well versed in various diseases and how to treat them. Perhaps in examining Madia Agnes can also discover what is wrong with Anders.

With a quiet sigh she grabs Anders' arm with the intention of freeing Madia. When she tries to move it, both his and Madia's eyes snap open, glowing bright with the blue spirit fire of the Fade. Lirene falls back, landing on her rump while slapping her hands over her mouth to stifle the scream. Using only her legs she scrambles away, knocking over her basket in the process. Anders and Madia continue to stare at her but neither their expression nor breathing changes. Slowly their eyes close, but Lirene does not dare move as she contemplates what she just saw.

_Maybe he's battling a demon in the Fade. Mages do that, right? _

With trembling hands and hesitant movements she reaches for the lamp, her eyes still locked on the two sleeping forms. She finds the courage and snuffs out the lamp before quickly leaving the small room.

..~~*~~..

By the time Sebastian reaches the Chantry his fingers and feet are numb, and his face feels like it's chiseled from a block of ice. The snow is now coming down hard and fast enough to reduce visibility to just a couple of feet. The long and narrow walkway leading to the Chantry's outer doors acts as a wind tunnel, threatening to lift Sebastian off his feet and hurl him out into the unforgiving storm. He uses his weight, pushing the door open just wide enough for him to slip in. Once inside two other brothers and a white haired elf help Sebastian push the massive door close.

"Maker have mercy." Sebastian breaths heavily, shaking off the snow. Looking around he cannot recall anytime the Chantry has been so full. He thanks the others for their help and then does a double take when he recognized the elf.

"Fenris?"

"I…" Fenris is then interrupted by Brother Edrin.

"Maker's Breath child!" Brother Edrin exclaims, watching Sebastian shiver beneath his thick woolen cloak. "Come, let's get you warmed up." He offers wrapping an arm about the younger man.

"Go get warm; I'll see if I can find you some hot tea or something." Fenris watches the older man lead Sebastian upstairs with Ser Aster following. Sighing to himself Fenris wanders off in search of the Chantry's kitchen.

"What are you doing out in this weather?" The elder brother guides Sebastian into a chair situated by the roaring fire in the hearth of Edrin's room.

"Aveline is investigating some disappearances. I was assisting her," He answers through chattering teeth.

"Is there a shortage of guards?"

"No. She's doing this in her spare time," he manages despite his shivering.

"She sounds very dedicated," Edrin comments. Sebastian can only nod. Edrin looks over to see as small child standing in the entryway to his room. Sebastian glances over and recognizes her as the child with the nightmare from a few nights ago.

"Here, sip this. It will help." Aster says, offering Sebastian a small flask. Sebastian's takes the flask but looks at the Templar with a touch of confusion in his blue eyes. Aster shrugs, but offers no explanation. Sebastian sniffs the contents and when he recognizes the strong scent of whiskey he takes two small sips before passing the flask back, unable to stomach anymore.

"You may warm up faster without all that cold armor. Metal will retain the cold and take longer to heat up," Aster suggests slipping the flask back into a small pouch secured to his belt.

Again Sebastian nods, his numb fingers having trouble working the buckles. Aster offers to help and Edrin moves aside. Piece by piece the armor comes off, leaving Sebastian in pants and tunic. A small sound draws Edrin's and Aster's attention to the entryway of his room.

"Child, do you know where Brother Sebastian's room is?" Edrin asks the dark haired girl. Her large brown eyes, chiseled nose and lithe figure hinting at her mix heritage.

"Yes Brother Edrin." She responds with a shy smile.

"Such a bright child. Take his armor and bow to his room and I'll give you a sweet." Edrin says with a friendly smile.

"I will help her." Aster says, handing the child the lighter pieces while carrying the bulk of it himself. "Don't worry; you can have the sweet he would have given me." Aster says in an uncharacteristically jesting manner.

"It's this way Ser Aster," The child says. She leads the way out of the guest rooms and towards the brothers' dormitories.

"So, you've been helping the Guard Captain with her investigation. It must be terribly exciting, tell me about it." Edrin prods. Sebastian knows he shouldn't say much, especially about Aveline's fears, but it's so hard to think right now. It must be the cold.

..~~*~~..

Fenris finds himself wondering why the Chantry has to be so large. With a soft growl he turns another corner and nearly stumbles into the largest woman he has ever encountered. She is easily three times Aveline's size and to his surprise it's solid muscle. He makes a mental note to avoid her bad side when he sees the 50 pound flour bag she seems to be effortlessly carrying on one shoulder. Her dark brown eyes study him briefly as she sets the bag down on a large workbench.

"Uh…I am looking for the kitchen?"

"Well, you found the cook and dinner isn't ready yet." She begins pulling out ingredients for a simple meal.

"I was hoping to get some hot tea for my friend. He got caught in the storm." Fenris is not a man easily intimidated, but he finds himself a touch daunted by this woman.

"Him and every other poor sod upstairs." She measures the flour into a large bowl. "The brothers and sisters will be dispensing food and beverages soon. Your friend is just going to have to wait his turn," she adds without looking up combining the rest of the ingredients for tonight's biscuits.

"My friend is one of the brothers here, I am hoping for an exception."

"Heard that one before." Her tone is making it obvious she doesn't believe his tale. "But I'll bite. What's his name?" Her eyes remained fixed on her task.

"Sebastian Vael."

She finally looks up at him, and this time really looks at him. She takes in his lean and lanky body, pointy ears, white hair and the swirls of lyrium branded into his pale skin. Using the back of her wrist she moves a strand of mousy brown hair from her eyes, partially mixed dough clinging to her hands.

"You're that Tevinter friend of his, aren't you?"

"Yes. My name is Fenris."

"That's right, he's told me of you. Come in, the water's already hot and mugs are over there." She indicates a cabinet to the left of the hearth with a tilt of her head.

"Thank you," Fenris says with a slight bow. "So…Sebastian has spoken of me?" He is curious about how much the woman knows.

"He occasionally comes down to the kitchen and keeps me company while I prep the meals. He speaks about you and your adventures, very exciting stuff." She sets the batter aside and wipes her hands on a nearby rag. Fenris chuckles dryly as he fills a large ceramic mug with hot water.

"The teas are over there - toss in a pinch of Elfroot to help him get on his feet faster. He has a lot of respect for you and all you've accomplished. He is not a man easily impressed, you know." She quickly chops an assortment of vegetables for the stew she's preparing.

"Yes, Hawke does seem to accomplish quite a bit." Fenris adds the tea and herb into a small round tea ball before dunking it into the hot water.

She pauses in her task and turns to look at him, her eyes serious. "I'm not talking about Messere Hawke. I was speaking of you."

"Me? What have I achieved?"

"Enough to earn his respect." She says, holding his gaze.

Fenris opens his mouth to say something when a small, white glowing figure catches his attention. It drifts past the doorway behind the cook. Something feels wrong.

"I….thank you…for the tea," Fenris says. He leaves the kitchen to follow the small glowing form through the maze of empty corridors until he reaches the main room of the Chantry. He scans the crowd, looking for Sebastian or any familiar face that might be able to point him in the archer's direction. Then he sees her dark curly hair, and large dark eyes.

"Madia?" He quickly approaches the child. "Madia," he calls again, only to realize that the child is not Madia.

"I'm sorry you look like someone I know. Do you happen to know where Sebastian is?"

"Yes Messere, he's up there with Brother Edrin." The child responds, unable to stop staring at his strange markings. Fenris' green eyes follow the girl's finger toward a flight of stairs to the left of the large room and for a moment he thinks he sees a pale white glow. Without another word he heads towards the glow only to have it fade away when he begins climbing the stairs. Half way up he hears voices and recognizes one of them as Sebastian.

At the top of the steps he turns the corner and sees an older, pudgy man drape a second cloak over Sebastian's shoulders. Sebastian sways slightly as she speaks softly with the other man. Fenris makes a small sound with catches Sebastian's attention.

"Fenris?" Sebastian asks, his blue eyes looking a little glassy.

"I brought you some hot tea. Are you all right?" Fenris offers him the earthen mug.

"I'm not cold any more, just…tired," he confesses. He still takes the mug and carefully sips its contents. A look of contentment spreads over Sebastian's face.

"Then let's get you to your room," Edrin suggests taking Sebastian's arm and helping him stand. Sebastian grips the mug tightly, enjoying the warmth of it in his hands. Fenris helps Edrin escort the archer.

"Oh Maker." Sebastian sighs as they begin to descend the stairs. "I'm supposed to lead the Chant tonight."

"There is plenty of daylight left; you should have time to get some rest," Edrin explains gently pushing a young woman out of their way. Sebastian continues to speak quietly with Edrin while Fenris' eyes carefully survey the crowd.

Fenris dislikes crowds. There are too many people, too much noise, too many stares, and too many smells. He has a very long list of things he does not like about crowds. When he was a slave and bodyguard to Danarius crowds were his greatest enemy because there were too many potential assassins.

_Why am I watching for assassins?_

He can hear the murmurs and whispers as they move through the mass of people. He becomes aware of fast movement approaching from behind; he spins as a woman bumps into Sebastian, knocking him to the floor. The glint of a blade in her hand can be seen as she moves towards the fallen archer. Fenris moves faster than any can see, grabbing the woman's wrist and pulling her away from Sebastian, pushing her into the crowd. There are too many people around for him to draw his two-handed sword, and she is lunging at him too quickly. He blocks the blade with one of his gauntlet and punches her in the gut. Gasping for air the woman collapses to her knees. Something about this does not feel right. This woman isn't moving or acting like a trained assassin. She looks up at him with a confused expression on her face, not the dead determination he'd seen on assassins in the past. She tries one more time, attempting to lunge past Fenris. Suddenly Ser Aster is there, grabbing the woman from behind and lifting her to her feet. His metal clad hand tightly gripping her wrist until the blade falls harmlessly to the floor.

Everyone gives the Templar and his screaming charge a wide berth as he hauls her off to secure her away from the crowd. Fenris turns to check on Sebastian and sees the spreading red stain on the back of the Sebastian's cloak.


	6. To Sleep, Perchance to Dream

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own anything, Dragon Age is not mine. The characters, game content and materials in the following story are copyrighted to BioWare. Neither I, nor this story, are endorsed by or affiliated with BioWare, or its licensors or subsidiaries. I do not receive any monetary compensation from the publication of this narrative. All Rights Reserved.

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**Chapter 6:** **To Sleep, Perchance to Dream**

"_I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Fade. For there is no darkness, nor death either, in the Maker's Light. And nothing that He has wrought shall be lost."  
Trials 1:14_

..~~~**~~~..

Blood is everywhere. Fenris keeps his arm tight about Sebastian, hoping the pressure of his arm over the wound will slow the bleeding. Thick rivers of blood swell around Fenris' arm and travel down Sebastian's right side and along his leg leaving a thick, smeared trail on the Chantry floor. He and Edrin practically drag Sebastian towards the Chantry's physiker. A thick crimson stream continues to flow around the elf's arm. Bright red foamy blood trickles from the corner of Sebastian's mouth and his complexion is a sickly blue gray. Fenris is alarmed by the rapid, shallow breaths coming from Sebastian.

"Brother Logan," Edrin screams, as make their way down the hall. "We need you!"

An older man darts out into the passageway from the library further down the hall. His lean form rushes towards the men.

"What happened?" Logan takes only a few seconds to evaluate Sebastian.

"He was stabbed," Fenris answers.

"Get him into my clinic, hurry." Logan meets them half way down the corridor and opens the door to his workshop. Edrin and Fenris drag Sebastian into the room.

"Lay him there," Logan orders as he quickly washes and dries his hands.

"Roll him onto his belly," Logan requests as he slips on his wire framed spectacles. With speed and strength that belie his age and slight status, he rips Sebastian's shirt open and sits on a small stool next to his patient. He studies the blood bubbling from the wound and the bright foamy froth coming from his mouth. Logan places an ear to Sebastian's back and listens to his breathing.

"His lung has been punctured. Edrin, my surgery tools are behind you." Logan gestures towards the box without looking away from Sebastian. The physiker mumbles to himself as he presses a clean cloth to the wound.

"Young man," Logan addresses the anxious white haired elf. "What is your name?"

"Fenris."

"Fenris, hold this. Keep the pressure," Logan says indicating the cloth he has pressed to Sebastian's injury. Logan accepts the heavy box from Edrin and sets it on a table near the bed. The older brother hastily pulls out two small pale purple potions and a thin hollow tube. Logan pulls the cork and turns back to Sebastian.

"Sebastian," Logan places the small tube into one of the potion. "Child, I need you to drink this." He holds the straw to Sebastian's lips.

"This is a numbing potion," Logan explains, watching Sebastian sip the liquid. "That's a good lad, drink it all."

Once Sebastian finishes the medicine, Logan quickly returns to his surgical box and pulls out thin, extremely sharp knife, a long narrow tube and small thick piece of leather.

The physiker sits back down across from Fenris and sets his implements down on the edge of the bed. Logan moves Fenris' hand and examines the injury again, and makes a small incision. Sebastian makes no indication that he feels anything. Logan sprinkles part of the contents of the second numbing potion on the new injury.

"Ser Aster, Fenris, I will need you hold him down. Don't let him move." Logan turns to his patient. "Sebastian, this will still hurt, despite the potion. Let me know when you're ready."

Logan hands Sebastian a thick piece of leather. Sebastian takes a few breaths, places the leather in his mouth and nods. Logan confirms that Aster and Fenris are ready before he slowly pushes the thin metal tube into the cut he made. Sebastian groans and bites down on the leather.

..~~*~~..

Aveline is starting to feel overwhelmed. She sits at her desk and looks at the plethora of notes she has taken about this case. She wants to be out asking questions, following leads and finding this monster that preys on children. Instead she's trapped in the barracks because of the blizzard. Frustrated she slams her fist on her desk. Out of ideas she folds her hands together and bows her head.

"Maker, I know we haven't spoken since the Blight…since Wesley's death, but if you still hear me I could use some help here." She whispers softly. She keeps her eyes closed as she recalls the name of each child who has disappeared from the Chantry. When she opens her eyes she didn't know what to expect, but an empty office was not on the list.

Sighing heavily, she gets to her feet and heads to window at the far end of her office.

"Well it was worth a shot," she says quietly to herself. The snow fall is now blinding. She allows pleasant memories to fill her mind until a knock at her door pulls her back to the present.

"Enter." She turns as Donnic enters her office and her heart skips a beat.

"Gaurd-Captain, is there anything we can do?"

"I'm not sure I follow."

"We've cleaned the barracks, finished all our reports, made sure the prisoners are secure…we actually did that one twice, and now we don't know what to do. We're going a little crazy."

"As it happens during a blizzard. Hopefully this will pass soon."

"There's talk among the guards that you are on a special investigation. Is there anything we can do to help?"

She smiles, the Maker did hear her. "I'll not turn down the help. Why don't you gather those who want to assist and I'll give a briefing."

"By your leave," he says with a slight bow.

She turns her face back to the window and says simply "thank you."

..~~*~~..

Fenris hopes he never has to see another healing like that again. He shudders when he thinks about how much pain Sebastian would have been in if he didn't have the numbing potion.

"I've done all I can for now," Logan says while drying his hands. The physiker looks back at Sebastian, who had passed out some time ago. "Now, he needs rest." Logan passes a clean rag to Fenris and subtly suggests he wash the blood off.

"I think this might have been an assassination attempt," Aster says.

"On Sebastian?!" The disbelief is obvious in Logan's voice.

"His entire line was wiped out. He is the last Vael, and the only one in Thedas with a rightful claim to the throne of Starkhaven."

"But that was years ago," Logan argues.

"He and Hawke have been talking about whether he should reclaim Starkhaven," Fenris volunteers.

"It's possible that word did get back to the usurper," Aster voices.

"But he was wearing Brother Edrin's cape. Wouldn't it also stand to reason that Edrin was the target," Logan points out.

"Brother Logan," all heads turned towards the new voice. Grand Cleric Elthina stands in the door way, her pale grey eyes looking at each man before they settle upon Sebastian's still form. "I heard Sebastian was attacked. How is he?"

"Your Grace." Brother Logan bowed in respect before answering her question. "The injury was severe. I've done all I can, and I'm optimistic that he will recover." Logan looks over at the two white pads covering the injuries on Sebastian's right side.

"Do we know why this happened," she asks.

"No, Your Grace, not yet." Ser Aster volunteers. "The attacker is secured in a small empty storage closet. As the guards are inaccessible I was thinking, with your permission of course, that I could interrogate the prisoner."

"And what tactics would you use?" Elthina tone is casual but her eyes are weary. She may be a woman of the church but she is not ignorant of the paths an 'interrogation' can take.

"Just questions, Your Grace. I will not raise a hand to the woman."

After a moment of thought she answers. "If the weather does not clear up by morning you may question the woman in my presence."

Aster bows in affirmation.

"In the meantime, please make sure she is fed."

"You're going to feed her? After what she's done!" Fenris is shocked by the Grand Cleric's kindness.

"Even prisoners at the Keep are fed young man," is Elthina's calm response.

"I will see to it personally, Your Grace." Aster says, excusing himself with a bow.

"Thank you, Ser Aster." She turns her attention to Fenris. "Your name is Fenris, is it not?"

"It is."

"Sebastian has told me that you were once a bodyguard. Could I impose upon you to protect Sebastian? Just until we know if he was the intended target." She requests politely.

Fenris looks back at Sebastian's unconscious form, Guilt creeps into his heart. In his nightmares he had failed Sebastian and as a result he died. In reality he feels as if he were unable to protect his friend from an assassin's blade. He may have failed once, but he will not fail again. "I can do that." Fenris confirms.

"Thank you. If possible, Brother Logan, let's get Sebastian moved to his room, we will need to use the cots in your clinic for our guests."

..~~*~~..

During her orientation Aveline shares everything she knows, but is careful to keep her suspicions about Edrin and Aster to herself. She is astounded by her guards' enthusiasm; be it duty or boredom that spurred them into action they embrace this investigation wholeheartedly. Nearly two-thirds of the guards are eager to help with Aveline's 'special investigation'. Half of the volunteers swarm the Archivists office, searching through years of files and paperwork for any clue regarding the children. A quarter of them plan an assault into the Keep's cellar to look for evidence that might have been inadvertently stored away. The last quarter pour over Aveline's notes, three of which attempt to read Sebastian's translation but only one succeeds.

"Captain," the older guard stands in her doorway. His face carries a serious expression, and Aveline recognizes the man. His name is Sedi Raoh and he is the only guard to read the translation completely.

"Guardsman Raoh, what's on your mind?"

"With you permission I would like to try translating the rest of the book."

He can see her hesitation and quickly speaks before she can voice her concerns. "This is not a request I make lightly. I have been thinking about this over the past two hours. I am no stranger to nightmares. When there is a murder I am the first one called to examine the corpse for clues."

"But this," she gestures towards the papers in question. "These atrocities were committed against children. It's not the same."

"Violent deaths are not restricted to adults, Captain. I have seen more than one child butchered. How can we say we've exhausted every means if we do not do this? If translating the book gives us even one more clue, it will be worth the price."

"Can you decipher it?"

"I have some experience with codes from my time in the army and I plan to use the translation as a key."

"Very well, but you're not doing this alone. I want to read everything you translate. When we catch this bastard and I look him in the eyes he will know that I know what he did."

"I would like to be there when we catch him."

"Agreed."

..~~*~~..

The Fade is unimaginably huge and fluid with regards to landmarks or reference points. Time has no dominion here; emotions are what dictate action. This is a place of dreams and nightmares. This is the home to spirits who embrace humans' noble characteristics and the demon who wish to be human. Birth land of Justice, a spirit trapped outside the Fade and currently residing within the rebel Grey Warden named Anders.

Standing in a field, Justice closes his eyes and savors the feel of the Fade welcoming him home. He relishes the sounds of the lyrium singing to and through him and the distant calling of his fellow spirits. Justice opens his eyes, his mind set on the task at hand. First he must get his bearings, being a native of this realm gives him advantage over the human visitors.

Behind him is the massive Chantry of Kirkwall. To his right he sees a small house in Lowtown with brightly painted shutters. To his left he sees a familiar stretch of the Wounded Coast. In front of him is Anders' clinic.

He looks back to the Wounded Coast, following that path will take him to _that_ cave. There must be something significant in that area; otherwise it would not be here in Madia's dream. These four areas are places of importance to the dark haired child, and in one of these quarters her tormentor is waiting.

He looks back to the house. He's never seen this house, and yet the feeling he gets from it is fading sorrow, as if this house is from a forgotten memory. Her connection to this building is strong but unknown to her, buried in her subconscious beneath her amnesia. Tempting as it is to learn the child's past; it is not why he is here.

He turns towards Anders' clinic and has the intense sensation of belonging and of home. Justice can feel his mage's joy at her approval. This is Madia's haven; her hunter will not be here.

When he considers the Chantry he can feel her conflicted emotions. To her this is a place of acceptance and fear. She has a history with the Chantry, but she cannot recall it. Something happened to her either at the Chantry or because of the Chantry. Before he heads to the house of worship, Justice faces the Wounded Coast and is besieged by terror.

The predator he seeks is up ahead lying in wait, hungry for its prey. Justice clutches Anders' staff and begins to head towards the path. It's time for the hunter to become the hunted.

He only makes it a few yards before Madia runs to him. She frantically tugs on his coat, trying to bring him back to the clinic.

"**What is wrong child,"** Justice asks. Through her hand-speak she insists that she needs Anders. It is by her request that Justice retreats, leaving Anders' in control.

"What's wrong dear-heart," Anders asks. Her hands feverishly dance about.

"A dog was eaten by broccoli, the cat is in the lyrium and I need to eat them," Anders translates, hoping this is not the message she wants to convey. She shakes her head, and tries again, but again her message comes out wrong. Anders grabs her hands, and looks into her eyes.

"You need to calm down. You're mixing up your words. Take a breath and try again." He releases her hands. She takes a breath slowly lets it out and makes a third attempt.

"A man was stabbed in the back, he's dying and he needs my healing," Anders translates. Madia nods emphatically and leads him into the clinic. To his surprise he sees a confused Fenris helping a barely conscious Sebastian walk into the clinic.

"Fenris?"

"I…I don't know how we got here." Fenris sounds as puzzled as he looks.

"What happened?"

"Sebastian was stabbed in the back."

"Over here," Anders is now in fuller healer mode as he heads towards the nearest cot. "Madia, my surgical box."

Fenris sits Sebastian on the indicated cot and helps him out of his tunic.

"When did this happen," Anders asks, seeing the wrappings about Sebastian's upper torso.

"About four hours ago. The Chantry's physiker tended to the wound."

Ander looks at his daughter as she sets his box on the ground to his right. Her dark eyes are solemn as she insists that Sebastian is dying.

"Alright, I'll take a look," he tells her. Anders grabs Sebastian's shoulder to help steady him, as he places his other hand on the archer's back. With a whispered spell, magical energies flow from Anders and into Sebastian. The mage closes his eyes as uses his magic to evaluate the extent of Sebastian's injuries.

"His lung was punctured, but it's already been treated. The physiker had to release the excess air. Both wounds are healing," Anders reports. His spell probes a little deeper. "He was given a numbing potion, and a healing tonic." He pulls his magic back.

"It was a serious injury, but well treated. There is some fever in him and near the initial wound, but the healing tonic should resolve that." His report is more for the dark haired girl than Fenris. Again Madia insists that something is wrong.

"Fenris, help me remove the bandages." Anders does not second guess his daughter's intuition. Once the bandages are off Anders can see one small and one large pad of fabric stuck to Sebastian's back. What alarms him are the tiny black veins that are just visible outside the larger dressing.

"Help me lay him down," Anders orders. Fenris says nothing and helps the mage lay Sebastian on his belly. Carefully, Anders removes the smaller cloth and is relieved to see the area free of infection. Slowly he removes the other bandage and the stench hits him hard.

"Andraste's knicker weasels!" It is instinct that pulls his face from the stench. Anders forces himself to turn back to the wound. Black puss is seeping from the cut and dark veins are spreading from the injury.

"He's got blood-rot," Fenris gasps.

"No, it's not blood-rot. That kind of infection takes days to get this bad. This is something else." Once again Anders sends his magic into the blackness in Sebastian's body.

"The blade that stabbed him must have been poisoned."

"Do you know this poison," Fenris asks.

"No, I've never encountered anything like it before." Anders looks up at Fenris. "I don't have an antidote," Anders admits. Madia catches Anders attention. Her little hands flitting about as she makes a suggestion.

"I might be able to do that." He looks back and Fenris. "I'm going to try to use my magic to force the poison out. If this works I doubt I'll have the mana or energy to heal his wounds. At least not right away."

Anders searches his surgical box and pulls a numbing potion. He pours a small amount on the poisoned gash. Sebastian takes in a sharp breath, but soon relaxes.

"Madia I need two metal bowls. One small and one large." Anders reaches into his box and produces a small pair of scissors and forceps. Madia quickly returns with the requested items. The large bowl is placed next to his surgical box while the other is set on the floor to his left. He tosses the bandages into the large bowl, and then carefully he cuts the stitches. The scissors go into the small bowl on his right, to be sanitized later, while the stitches join the used bandages. With skilled hands Anders reopens the poisoned wound.

"I need your help, dear-heart," Anders says as he drops the forceps in with the scissors. Anders stands up and moves to Sebastian's opposite side.

"I'm going to try and pull the poison out. I need you to keep the area clean and make sure it doesn't get in the other wound. I don't know what this poison is, so don't touch it understand?"

She nods and reaches into the surgical box. She pulls out several clean rags and a healing salve. She slathers a thick coat of the salve on the unaffected injury and signals that she is ready.

"Sebastian, this will not hurt, but it may be uncomfortable."

Anders slowly funnels his mana into Sebastian's body, pooling it near the poison. Delicate tendrils of magic probe the archer's blood searching for anything foreign. He quickly locates the numbing solution and healing potion coursing through Sebastian's veins. Anders knows something foul is festering and keeps searching. Then he finds it, wisps of magic twirl about the poison, keeping it from spreading any further while he studies the properties of this deadly concoction. He can identify all of the components; it surprises him to find both a concentrator and corrupter agent. He can sense the Deathroot, and venom extract and can detect a touch of demon ichor. Beneath it all, extremely diluted and barely there but there all the same he finds something both alien and familiar. He can feel it call to him in faint well-known undertones. The taint.

"Andraste have mercy," he gasps. It's very weak; to him it feels like a drop of darkspawn blood in three gallons of water. He finds himself praying that it never develops into blight. Death by blight is a slow, horrendous death. This poison is designed to be a slow killer, by the time the victim suspects anything; it's too late for any type of cure.

Anders' magic latches onto this vileness. He sends his mana out further into Sebastian's body searching for even the slightest whisper of such corruption. Satisfied that he discovered every last trace of poison he begins using his magic to pull the toxin out. He works slow, careful not to rupture the small mana shields he formed. Bubble after bubble slowly rises, and pop when they reach the surface. Black ooze spills from the wound and Madia quickly and cautiously cleans the area and tosses the rags into the trash bowl.

It's exhausting, but Anders presses on, drawing on every ounce of strength and magic he possesses. All the while praying it's enough. At long last the final remains of the poison spill out of the wound.

"I...can't…" Too drained to stand, Anders stumbles back, his eyes closing.

With surprising speed and agility, Madia leaps over Sebastian to tend to Anders. He is pale, and trembling with a fine sheen of sweat covering him. She grabs his coat and shakes him.

Fenris crouches beside the unconscious apostate. Madia riffles through Anders' pouches until she finds a small vial filled with a bright blue liquid. She wastes no time in ripping off the cork. Fenris helps support Anders' head as she presses the phial to his lips forcing him to drink the bitter tasting liquid. Anders chokes at first, but swallows the lyrium. Gradually his eyes open and focus on Madia. Her hands are anxiously forming words. His hands shake violently as he reaches for her face.

"I'm fine, just…drained." His voice is thick with exhaustion. "Go…finish," he gestures towards Sebastian, indicating Madia needs to stitch the gash shut. "Use the white."

"Did you get it all?"

"I think I did. It was…bad." Anders gathers his waning strength. "Take six healing potions. Have him drink one in the morning and one in the evening for the next three days. Watch him. If the stitches turn black, and he starts having nightmares or hearing things, then I didn't get it all."

"What then? What does he do if the stitches turn black?"

"He dies."

..~~*~~..

Ser Aster walks through the crowded Chantry carrying a small tray with two bowls of stew to Sebastian's attacker and her guardian. He does his best to stay near the far wall in an attempt to be as unseen as possible, but he may as well have been wearing a dress and dancing the Remigold. All eyes turn to him as he passes into the corridor leading to the woman's makeshift prison. The voices are low, but Aster can hear the rumbling and whispering of on lookers as he passes. He idly wonders what rumors are being spread.

The hallway he walks down is lit by the bare minimum of candles necessary to push back the shadows. This is by the Grand Cleric's request. She listens to the Fereldens in her flock when they tell her that a blizzard can take days or weeks to pass. He turns another corner and heads towards the first flat surface that is away from prying eyes. Quietly Aster sets the tray on the pedestal at the feet of Andraste and pulls a small phial from his pouch. He removes the cork and pours the dark green fluid into one of the small bowls. He quickly stirs the soup with the spoon the cook provided and hides the empty vial in his pouch. He then picks up the wooden tray and continues his journey.

Soon he approaches a medium sized storage room with a door at the far end. To the right of the door stands a serious looking Templar.

"Ser Nico, I'm bringing food for you and the prisoner." Aster says, indicating the tray in his hands.

"I don't think she deserves a meal, not after what she's done to poor Brother Sebastian. How is he by the way?"

"Brother Logan thinks he'll make a full recovery. Take the other bowl," Aster says as Nico reaches for the bowl with the spoon.

"Why?"

"I may have dropped the spoon once or twice."

Nico laughs as he takes the second bowl and spare spoon.

"How has it been?" Aster gestures towards the door.

"Quiet." Nico sets his spoon into the stew and pulls the room's key out of a pouch. He hands the key over and heads over to the small desk to eat his meal. Aster lets himself into the room and finds the woman sitting on the makeshift bed. He set the tray down on a box and hears the woman standup. The Templar spins around, grabs the woman and kisses her passionately.

"You are so brave my dear." He says between kisses.

"You were right about him." She wraps her arms about his neck and returns his kisses. "I followed Sebastian today. And you were right, about all of it. He goes to taverns, and the brothel. And that...that hovel he has his slave live in…right here in Hightown! What happens now?"

"The Grand Cleric wants to meet with you in the morning. I'm sure once you explain your findings she'll understand your reaction, and forgive your actions."

"Will you be there Aster?"

"Yes, Trina I will, so don't worry. Eat your supper; you're going to need your strength tomorrow."

"What I don't understand is his slave. That white haired elf didn't act as if he wanted his freedom. Why?"

"Slaves don't understand freedom like we do. Now eat your supper. I'll see if I can sneak away and come visit you later tonight." He treats her to a charming smile that melts her heart.

He leaves the room, locks the door behind him and hands the key back to Nico. Aster bid his fellow Templar a good night and begins making his way back to Edrin, who is in a meeting Elthina. As he makes his way down the hall Aster realizes that he's going to miss Trina.


	7. Within the Fade

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own anything, Dragon Age is not mine. The characters, game content and materials in the following story are copyrighted to BioWare. Neither I, nor this story, are endorsed by or affiliated with BioWare, or its licensors or subsidiaries. I do not receive any monetary compensation from the publication of this narrative. All Rights Reserved.

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**Chapter 7: Within the Fade**

_"And there I saw the Black City. Its towers forever stain'd, Its gates forever shut._

_Heaven has been filled with silence, I knew then, And cross'd my heart with shame."_

_Andraste 1:11_

..~~~**~~~..

Anders wakes suddenly and finds himself chained to a cold stone alter. He struggles against the chains, but they hold strong. Frantically he looks around hoping to gain some clue to his whereabouts, but the empty room reveals nothing. He's overwhelmed by the need to escape, to escape _now_. He tries to slip his hands out of the shackles, but he only ends up bruising his wrists. He reaches within but is unable to stir Justice. He remembers entering the Fade to help Madia, and then healing Sebastian. He's never drained himself that much before.

_Am I still in the Fade? Where's Madia?_

He looks around, straining to see anything in the darkness, softly calling to his dark haired child, hoping she'll make a noise to announce her presence. A door opens and the room is momentarily flooded with light, blinding Anders. He can hear someone walk into the room, but can only make out their silhouette.

"You're awake, good. This is always more satisfying when they're awake." The woman's tone is hard and cruel. Anders can hear the sadistic pleasure in her words. A chill runs down his spine. He knows this voice.

"Meredith," he whispers in dread, struggling harder against his restraints. Once again he tries to reach Justice and again he is unsuccessful.

"That's Knight Commander to you, mage." She backhands Anders to make her point. She walks about the room, casually lighting candles. "You've escaped us for long enough. Now you're back where you belong." She pauses to strike another match. "I have heard of you Anders," she says as she lights the last candle. The room is now bathed in a soft golden glow, but it still reveals nothing about its purpose, nor any sign of Madia.

"You've escaped the Ferelden Circle eight times. It was after your last escape that you caught the eye of the Warden Commander who invoked the Rite of Conscription. Isn't that right…Warden?" She says the last word in a mocking tone.

"Wardens aren't accountable to Templars," Anders clutches at the thin hope that his status as a Warden will spare him.

"But you ran away from the Wardens. I hear you're hiding from them. I don't think they'll miss you, do you?" She looks down at Anders with dark anticipation. She picks up a narrow, deep wooden box from beside the altar and sets it down next to Anders. "And if they do want you back…" she reaches into the box, "this way you'll be more obedient." She pulls out the brand for the Rite of Tranquility.

Anders hears himself scream.

"Oh, yes. Scream louder little mage. No one is coming." Meredith sneers as she prepares the Rite. Anders tries desperately to reach Justice or his magic but fails in both. He fights against manacles, the metal bites into his skin spilling his blood. He can feel the hot crimson trickle down his arm.

Meredith's grin is nasty as she holds the brand over Anders, taking inhuman pleasure in the apostate's terror. The door suddenly bursts open and before the Templar can face the intruder a knife is thrust through her neck. The blonde Templar falls to the ground, gurgling as she slowly dies.

"Hawke!" Never in his life had he ever been so happy to see anyone. And never has a woman been more beautiful.

"Anders! Praise the Maker. I was so afraid I'd get here too late."

"Where is Madia?"

"Safe. I got her out first."

"Get me out of here!" He hates the tinge of panic he hears in his voice. She presses her lips to his with such passion that he moans into her mouth.

"Will you show me your appreciation?' She looks at him with a delicious and devious grin. She works quickly to free his hands from the shackles.

"That could take hours," he teases back; however, the moment his hands are free Justice instantly and without warning takes control. He grabs one of Hawke's blades and runs her through. Inside Anders is screaming and scrabbling for control, but remains helpless to intervene.

"**Leave me demon!"** Justice watches as Hawke stumbles back and slowly reverts to her true form of a desire demon. This particular demon is weak, and desperate otherwise it would not have gone after Anders. It would have sensed Justice and either killed them while they were unconscious or found another target.

Justice looks at his wounded wrists and simply wills the injuries away. He clenches and unclenches his hands a few times before summoning Ander's staff. Abruptly he leans back against the altar and shakes his head clear. Healing Sebastian was far more taxing than Anders led the others to believe. Justice exhausted himself when giving the mage his strength.

With the fog in his head gone, Justice leaves this room. He casually steps over the demon's corpse; there is a monster here hunting Madia, and he intends to slay it.

..~~*~~..

Sebastian wakes and finds himself in his darkened room. He lies on his bed and listens to the weather outside. The wind whistles through the shutters, and he swears he can hear the snow piling up just beyond his window. He never thought little snowflakes could be so loud. He moves slowly, gritting his teeth against the stabbing pain in back. Finally he sits up and places his feet on the cold stone floor. Tenderly he touches the bandages wrapping his torso as he wonders when he was injured. His fingers carefully work their way to his back as his mind replays the events of that day.

He clearly recalls going to the Keep and speaking with Aveline. He remembers them speaking with Varric, just as he knows they went to the brothel.

Sebastian winces when he finds the wound Brother Logan had made. He can feel another injury further back, but cannot reach it without causing more pain. He gives up on reaching the other wound and continues to try and focus on how he was hurt. He remembers leaving the Blooming Rose, and making it back to the Chantry but then what? He thinks he remembers Fenris being at the Chantry, and Anders?

_Is Anders here, at the Chantry? Maybe I can find someone who will know._

Again he grits his teeth as he staggers to his feet. While looking for his slippers, the glint of metal between his desk and the wall catches his attention. He hobbles to his desk and sees his armor stacked neatly on the floor and his bow leaning against the corner. Cautious not to inflict more pain, Sebastian picks up his bow, sits at his desk and attempts to unstring it with his off hand. After a few failed, and excruciating, attempts he gives up and hangs the weapon on the wall over his desk. He toys with the idea of putting his armor on its stand in the closet, but the throbbing in his back convinces him otherwise.

He stands up and decides to make an effort at putting on his robe. His fingers just touch the fabric when he hears a small muffled voice. Sebastian opens his door and looks out into the empty hallway and sees nothing. He steps out into the dark corridor and listens; again he hears the soft sound. Glancing to his right he sees only a vacant corridor, to his left he only sees rows of closed doors in the darkened passageway. He turns back to his room and yelps when he sees Madia standing in his doorway.

"Blessed Andraste child," Sebastian gasps. She's wearing nothing more than thin, white sleeping gown and a sad expression on her face. "What are you doing here? Where's Anders?"

She takes off running, leaving the Brothers' dorm, heedless of Sebastian's calls for her to stop. Wearing only his pants he does his best to give chase, following her into the children's wing. Pain and lack of breath force him to stop at the entryway almost driving him to his knees. He gratefully gulps down several breaths before he looks up to see Madia standing next to a cot near the middle of the room. Silently he makes his way to the dark haired child.

"Madia," he whispers. "We shouldn't be here."

She stands motionless, looking down at the sleeping figure. Sebastian looks at the slumbering child; it's the same girl who has been helping Edrin the past few days. Suddenly, he notices similarities between Madia and this girl. Both are slight of build with dark shoulder length curls framing their heart shaped faces and the delicate features. He looks at the wooden name plate secured to the foot of the bed.

"Devon," he says softly. "Why do I know that name?"

There's a sudden cold blast of air, Sebastian raises his arm to shield his face from flying sand. The wind dies as suddenly as it appeared and Sebastian gradually opens his eyes. His blood runs cold when he finds himself at the mouth of _that_ cave.

From the darkness he can see the shadow emerge carrying a child. It takes his mind several seconds to realize that he is actually seeing a child's face for the first time and it is a face he recognizes.

"I know you," he breaths unable to keep the fear from his voice. "Maker help me, I know you…"

..~~*~~..

It was a good dream. Anders had turned on Hawke. Fenris was there to save her and then she insisted on showing him her gratitude. And it's the type of gratitude that requires no clothing and a great deal of flexibility. Yes, it was a very good dream…so why is he wide awake staring at the floor in Sebastian's darkened room?

Sebastian's room, like all other rooms in the dorm is small and sparsely furnished with only a bed, desk and chair. It annoys Fenris that there is no lock on the door, forcing him to wedge the chair under the handle. With the chair acting as a lock, he has little choice but to either stand all night or sit on the desk. He chose to sit on the desk and must have dozed off at some point in the night.

He sighs quietly and runs his hands through his white hair as he listens to Sebastian's breathing. He glances across the room and can tell that the Brother's dreams are troubled. He thinks about waking his friend, but remembers Logan saying that the archer needs his rest. The elf looks at the window, the artic wind whistles outside. Fenris can see the pale grey light of the pre-dawn seeping in around the shutters.

His green eyes move to the door as his mind drifted back to the dream of Anders healing Sebastian.

_Was that really a dream_, he thinks. A nagging feeling urges him to check his pouch. Carefully he reaches into the small bag and pulls out six high quality healing potions. He has no memories of buying these, and then he hears Ander's voice.

"_Take six healing potions. Have him drink one in the morning and one in the evening for the next three days. Watch him. If the stitches turn black, and he starts having nightmares or hearing things, then I didn't get it all."_

He looks over at Sebastian, wondering if he should check the stitches or wait for the physiker.

A barely audible click from the door draws his attention. Quietly he replaces the vials and draws his sword. His bare feet make no sound as he creeps towards the door. Fenris identifies the noise as someone trying to open the door. He pauses against the wall and very carefully removes the chair he'd wedged under the door handle. Now he waits for the would-be intruder. Sebastian cries out suddenly, kicking off his bedding in terror. Fenris quickly opens the door and sees only a deep blue cloak disappear around the corner. There is a slight glint of metal and he thinks it's on the edge of the fabric, but it's impossible for him to see for certain. As much as he wants to give chase, he turns his attention to his is injured friend.

"You're safe, Sebastian. Be still." Fenris places a hand on Sebastian's shoulder. The archer takes in his surroundings and does his best to calm down. He groans and curls up in pain.

"Sit up; it will take the pressure off your wound." Fenris helps Sebastian up, and offers him one of the phials from his pouch. With trembling hands he takes the red potion from the elf and swallows the contents in one gulp. It takes several moments for the pain to ease up enough for him to speak.

"What…what happened?"

"You do not remember?"

"I remember making it home, and then things get fuzzy. Was Anders here? I think he tried to heal me?" Sebastian questions Anders presence given the pain he's in and the mage's contempt of the Chantry and Templars.

"No, Anders is not here." Fenris is reluctant to mention the shared dream, or his theory that they were pulled into the Fade where Anders pulled the poison from Sebastian's body.

"What happened? How did I get hurt?"

"You were attacked by an assassin. Aster and I stopped her."

"Why?"

"We don't know. The Grand Cleric gave Aster permission to question her this morning, if we cannot reach the guards."

"I want to be there."

"I don't think that's a wise decision. We do not know if you were the intended target or Edrin."

"I will not live in fear of such things. I want to face her." The determination in Sebastian's eyes and voice convince the elven warrior that he will not be swayed.

Fenris can respect Sebastian's desire to stand his ground, but worries that he is putting himself in harm's way needlessly. "Very well, but I will be there. Let me help you dress, and then we can head to the kitchen and get you some breakfast."

..~~*~~..

Justice easily navigates the Fade back to Madia's crossroads. He tightens his grip on the staff as he makes his way up the Wounded Coast towards the cave. The closer he gets to his destination the darker and colder the weather becomes. The wind whips around, tugging viciously at Justice's coat and hurling small rocks and dirt at the determined spirit. He thinks about banishing the weather, but quickly discards that idea as he does not want to alert his prey to his presence as he swiftly approaches.

When he finally makes it to his destination he presses his back against the mountain side and listens for movement from within the cave. He hears only children softly weeping, and from the sound of it there are dozens of them. He reaches out with his mind and detects no hostiles, merely terrified children. Deciding the coast in clear he steps into the darkness and uses Anders' magic to summon a softly glowing blue orb of mage-light. The glow hovers just above the staff and pushes back the gloom. The sobbing increases in volume, and the panic in the sound tears at Justice.

"**Peace, I will not harm you,"** he says to the voices. The wailing decreases to a whimper. He follows the sound through the darkness to a small cage bolted to the floor. Suddenly several little hands reach out and grab onto his coat. Scores of little voices are calling to him, pleading with him for help.

"**I will help you."** Using bladed end of the staff he breaks the locks and opens the door. Dozens upon dozens of little souls rush out; they surround him and beg for help, for protection. He counts nearly fifty souls. He cannot leave them here, the evil that infests this place could return any moment.

"**Come with me. Hurry."** He leads the horde of souls out of the cave and away from this place. The fear of being caught and returned encourage all the children to keep up with the hurried pace Justice sets. Once he's content the evil cannot find them he stops.

"Where to now Ser," one child asks, her Orlesian accent thick. Justice looks at the children he rescued and wonders the same thing. He's suddenly struck by an epiphany; there is one who knows the fade better than most, one who might be able to help these children cross over. His glowing blue eyes scan the horizon, dancing from one floating island to another until he finds what he's looking for.

He closes his eyes and sends out a mental greeting. To his relief his summons is welcomed and returned. From that island he can see a soft golden light twinkle once, and then fade. The children huddle behind him, their voices fearful.

"**This is a friend,"** Justice soothes, as a warm golden glow emerges in front of him. When the light fades he sees a beautiful woman, with long waves of pale blonde hair and flowing robes. She floats mere inches above the ground, her bare feet just barely peeking out from beneath her robes. Everything about her shifts and moves as if she's under water, her smile is soft and friendly, she is a spirit of compassion. Her joyful expression soon fades when she sees Justice.

"**Compassion, it is I, Justice,"** he says as she starts to back away. She pauses and cocks her head and studies him.

"_Justice?"_ Her voice is gentle and ethereal; it always called to him in ways unlike any other. _"Oh Justice…what have you done?"_ Her voice is a mix of sorrow, pity and fear. The sadness in her words and eyes is heartbreaking. He regales her with the tale of his encounter with the Baroness and the Warden Commander. He tells her how he became trapped outside the veil in the corpse of a Grey Warden, and how his friend Anders offered his body as a host.

"_And now you have returned home?"_ She closes the distance between them placing a hand on his cheek. Her tone is optimistic and it kills him to admit he is only visiting. She drops her hand and nods solemnly.

"**I need a favor. I rescued these souls,"** he gestures towards the mob behind him. **"I cannot abandon them, but I cannot stay."**

"_And you want me to take them. You ask a lot my friend."_

"**If anyone can help them it's you. Please Compassion. There is no one else."**

"_If these souls are trapped, destroying their captor could free them to cross over. Those who do not cross over, I will care for." _She places her hand on his cheek again and smiles tenderly at him. He cups her face and lovingly presses his lips to hers. She makes a surprised sound but doesn't pull away. The children all snicker and make whispered comments among themselves. Justice can feel Anders stir. The mage is not certain he likes the direction the spirit is taking this reunion. When they part, Compassion's graceful fingers touch her lips, there is a questioning look in her eyes.

"**It's a kiss. Humans do it to show affection to one another,"** he explains.

"_Affection?"_ There is a hopeful raise in her voice.

"**Yes, affection."** His reward is a beautiful smile. Her expression does not falter as she gathers the children up and takes them to the safety of her realm.

Justice tightens his grip on the staff, and heads back towards the cave. His mind now focused on freeing not only Madia but also the children he just rescued.

..~~*~~..

"Brother Sebastian!" The cook runs towards the injured archer with such alarming speed Fenris is unsure if he could stop her. The elf is about to intervene when she suddenly stops a couple of feet from Sebastian. It's obvious she wants to hug him, but is concerned about causing him pain. She brings her hands to her mouth, tears welling up on her lovely grey eyes. Sebastian smiles at her and holds out his left arm.

Carefully she wraps her arms about his shoulders, embracing him as though he were made of glass. Tears of joy running down her cheeks and he returns her hug.

"I was so worried when they told me," she says between sobs.

"It's all right, Birdie," he sooths.

"Oh, look at me," she says in a relieved tone. She pulls a cloth from her pocket and dries her eyes. "Blubbering like a baby when you're probably hungry."

Fenris' shoulders tighten at Sebastian's innocent comment of "I can wait and have breakfast with the others." The thought of another crowd, with too many people having access to Sebastian's food and drink is a stress he would rather not deal with.

"Nonsense." She sets two stools across from the table she does most of her preparations at. "Have a seat and I'll make you something special."

"Birdie, there's really no need."

"Nonsense," she repeats. "Have a seat; I have something special for you." She hurries off into another part of the kitchen.

"I would do as she says, were I you. I doubt either of us could out run her should she decide to charge," Fenris jokes, hoping his friend will take the suggestion. Sebastian begins chuckling, but his laughter is broken by the occasional 'ow' as he wraps his arms about his torso.

"Don't make me laugh," he says as he carefully sits on the stool.

Birdie rushes back, carrying a small wooden box which she proudly offers to Sebastian. "I was going to save it for your birthday, but I figure now is as good a time as any."

Fenris helps his wounded friend open the ornate box. Sebastian's eyes widen with excitement at the sight of tiny white flowers mixed with dried, pale pink and dark green leaves.

"Apple Blossom Tea! I haven't had this since I was a child! Where did you find this? I've not seen it outside Starkhaven."

"A merchant friend of mine was traveling through Starkhaven and picked some up for me. I just put the kettle on so it will be a few moments."

Birdie speaks excitedly about the gossip of Hightown while she prepares breakfast. She starts a large pot of porridge and then begins mixing the ingredients for biscuits when something catches her attention.

"Devon? Is that you child?"

"Yes Birdie," a small voice says from the hallway after a hesitant pause.

"Well, don't loiter out there, come in, I can always use the extra hands."

Devon peeks around the corner, wide brown eyes looking as if she were caught doing something naughty. The cook calls to her in again, explaining that Sebastian occasionally joins her in the mornings.

"You're up awfully early little one," Sebastian comments. "Bad dreams?"

She shakes her head. "Just woke up."

"Child, do us a favor and bring Sebastian and his friend a couple of mugs of hot water." The large woman begins mixing the ingredients together for biscuits.

"Your name is Devon, isn't it?" Sebastian asks. The child nods her head as she carefully hands him the mug of hot water.

"Talk and work," Birdie says gesturing to the dough. "I've other things to tend to."

"Devon is an unusual name. Are you named after someone?"

"Auntie says my father named me after his mother." Her eyes are focused on her task as she carefully creates rows of biscuits.

"Did you grow up here in Hightown?" Sebastian watches as Devon portions out the dough onto a large flat cooking stone.

"No, I grew up in the alienage. My parents were killed when I was a baby."

"The alienage," Fenris asks, helping his fried prepare his tea.

She nods explaining, "my mother was an elf."

"Does your aunt come and visit you, here at the Chantry?" Something about this girl is tugging at his memory.

"Auntie got sick last year," she looks up at him with her rich chocolate brown eyes. "She never got any better." She pushes the cooking stone aside and pulls out a second one and repeats the process.

"I'm sorry child, I didn't know," Sebastian says, sipping his tea. "Do you have any other family?"

"I have a sister, but I've never met her. Auntie said she joined the Chantry, do you know her? Did she move to another Chantry?" her eyes are hopeful as she looks to Sebastian.

"It's possible, what's her name?"

"Sonya Rebelyon."

..~~*~~..

Donnic brushes his brown hair away from his eyes as he approaches Aveline's office. He pauses in the doorway at the sight of the red-headed woman asleep at her desk. Even in slumber she looks haunted, but whether it's her past or this case he cannot tell.

"Captain," he calls out softly. She stirs but doesn't wake. He tries again, a little louder. Slowly her green eyes open, she looks around and then up at him, embarrassed at having been caught sleeping. She sits up, wipes the sleep from her eyes and clears her throat.

"Guardsman Donnic," her voice still laced with sleep.

"Sorry to wake you, Ser, but I think we found something in the cellars." Donnic approaches holding a charred book. "It looks as if it's written in the same code as the other book," he explains. Aveline carefully flips through the pages and agrees that it does look similar.

"This books looks as if it survived a fire," she comments to herself.

"I think it's from the old orphanage."

"I thought orphans went to the Chantry."

"Some years ago there used to be an orphanage of sorts. A man and his young daughter opened up their home and took in many parentless children from the streets. He and his daughter taught them skills, like cooking and cleaning so they could get jobs when they got older. Many of the younger ones were used as messengers about the city to help support the orphanage. Then the man's daughter disappeared and the orphanage mysteriously caught fire. Dozens of children died in the blaze and his daughter's corpse was found in the home's basement with his knife in her chest."

"What happened to the father?"

"All of the evidence pointed to him as the murderer. He went to his grave swearing his innocence. But this was one of the things pulled from the ruins. No one knew what to make of it, so it was stored away and forgotten about." Donnic shrugs.

"Were any children reported missing from the orphanage?"

"We thought you might ask, so some of us are already going through the archives and we found four more reports that fits the description you're looking for, but they were reported on the 13th of Verimensis."

"Would you also bring me the file about the fire; I'd like to review that as well."

"By your leave," Donnic says with a bow. Donnic had no sooner left the room before Guardsman Raoh rushes in. The dark circle beneath his eyes, disheveled hair and a half days growth on his face are proof of his sleepless night.

"There are two!" he says excitedly. He hurries to Aveline's desk and sets down the handful of papers bearing his translation and the book. "There are two men that did this." He opens the book and points at the script. "Look at this page, and now look at this page," he flips to another section. "Do you see it?"

She takes the book and flips between the two pages. Her green eyes carefully scanning the text, and then she sees it. "It's not the same," she says in realization.

"Same code, but written by a different hand. We're looking for a pair of predators."

"Have you written the key to deciphering this?"

"Yes, Ser, it's over here…somewhere," he shuffles through the papers and pulls out the page in question.

"A second book was found, I'm going to use your key to decode it." She explains.

"I can do it, Ser," he volunteers, still riding the excitement from his discovery.

"You need sleep, Guardsman. Don't force me to make that an order," she adds seeing the protest forming on his lips.

..~~*~~..

As Justice approaches the cave he can tell that the evil has returned. Its fury fills the area, and gives Justice a sense of accomplishment. The shrieks of anger and roars of rage are as deafening as the thunder.

"**Time to submit yourself for evils you have committed,"** the spirit says, stepping into the cave. The demon spins, locking her dark eyes on the intruder. Justice can tell that this Desire Demon is extremely powerful.

"_**You are a bothersome little spirit." **_Her voice is both seductive and terrifying at the same time. Two voices from one source, one soft and enticing, but beneath it the low and guttural growl. She chuckles at the thought, her clawed hand running up her body to cup her breast. _**"You come to my domain, where I am most powerful to engage me. I'm flattered, oh so flattered," **_she moans softly.

"**Your tricks will not work on me demon."**

"_**Then come little spirit, dance with me. Let's see if your power matches your boldness." **_She begins her seductive dance, summoning her dark energy. Justice releases a burst of mana which staggers the demon, but her dance had managed to summon a weaker Rage Demon.

Justice spins the staff around, aiming the crystal top at the fiery demon. A cone of ice shoots forward, freezing his opponent. Justice runs towards his frozen foe, dragging the bladed end of the staff along the rocky floor. With a thunderous battle cry he leaps into the air, bringing the blade down with as much force as he could muster. The frozen demon shatters under the assault and vanishes with a low growling sound.

Sharp claws tear into his back. He cries out in pain and stumbles away from his attacker. He spins quickly, staff in hand. It's bladed end easily slicing into her left side. With a cry of pain she doubles over and throws a Hex spell at the spirit. Justice barely managed to sidestep the spell, but the wall close to him explodes, knocking him to the ground. The demon slaps a hand over her wound. Thick, dark blood seeps between her fingers. Snarling angrily she summons a small ball of mana in her other hand and viciously hurls it at Justice. He staggers to his feet but not in time to dodge the spell. The force of it hits him in the chest and sends him careening back into the shattered wall. His staff clatters to the floor. He slides to the ground leaving behind a smear of blood. This demon is far more formidable than he originally anticipated.

She dances once more, summoning two Rage Demons who close in on the wounded spirit. He flings a freezing spell at the fiery demons. One is frozen in place while the other manages to evade. Justice grits his teeth and launches at the immobile foe while narrowly avoiding the second. With the full force of his weight he successfully shatters his enemy. The remaining demon snatches Justice by the arm, charring both flesh and fabric. Justice cries out in pain as the demon throws him across the cave. Another bolt of magic tears into his left shoulder and reminds the spirit that Desire is more than a spectator.

A wall of fire begins to close in on Justice. He rolls out of the way, but the flames run up the wall and along the ceiling. A wave of intense heat washes over him making it difficult to breath. He sees his magical staff just beyond the Rage Demon. He tries another ice spell, but this demon dodges and continues to approach. Justice holds a hand towards his burning attacker and this time it moves directly into the cone of ice. In the back of the cave Desire prepares another spell. Justice moves quickly and in her effort to annihilate him she destroys her ally.

Justice's victory is short lived as she screams with anger and lobs another spell at him. He cries in agony as he feels the bones in his left arm shatter. She casts another which breaks his right leg. He collapses, too far away to reach his weapon.

"_**Your power, little spirit, does not match your boldness."**_ She mocks as she nonchalantly runs her hand down the right side of her body. _**"It took a lot of energy to harvest all those souls. You will pay for their loss, unless you wish to make a bargain."**_ She eyes Justice's body, her eyes making it clear that she wants the mage as her host and a way out of the Fade.

"**A demon's promise is worthless."** He says through the pain.

"_**A bargain made is a bargain kept. Such is our way."**_ She says casually inspecting one of the claws on her right hand. Justice looks up at his rival with such hate that she laughs. _**"You still wish to battle me? Oh, this is delicious. I will end you, little spirit, and your mage will be mine for the taking."**_

She screeches suddenly in pain and arches her back. She spins to confront her new assailant, the staff still sticking from her back. Justice quickly heals his wounds and launches himself at Desire. While she deals with this new foe, Justice grabs the staff and channels his spell through it and into her. The fire spell cooks her from the inside and her scream dies before it can escape. The rancid stench of burnt flesh fills the air as she slumps to the ground. Justice gags as he collapses to his knees, his stomach threatening to evict it contents. It is sheer luck that he defeated one as powerful as she, and he knows it. He looks up at his timely savior and sees a dark haired girl crumpled face down on the ground. Desire, it would seem, managed to get in an attack before her demise. He rushes towards her, and rolls her over to check for wounds. He is surprised to see a familiar face.

"**Madia,"** he exclaims as she lay limp in his arms.

..~~*~~..

The floor falls from beneath Sebastian. He has a vague sensation of falling and somewhere an earthen mug shatters. He falls for an eternity before unseen hands grab him and slow his decent. His world smells of Apple Blossom Tea and voices are calling his name.

"…run child," a woman's voice says urgently.

_Mother?_

"Now!"

Without another question he runs blindly into the dark. He doesn't know where he is going, and he cannot see where he has been. He runs until his lungs burn, and a sharp pinch in his side urges him to stop. He collapses to hands and knees gasping for breath. He cannot stop the flood of images that crash into his brain. His mind's eyes bears witness to his family's slaughter. And his mind's ears cannot shut out the sounds of their screams of pain and death cries. He can see the blood spray across the pristine wall. Sebastian's mother is on the floor, blocking the door to the nursery, pleading for the children to be spared. Drops of blood drip from mercenary's blade as he continues to close in on the defenseless woman.

_No!_ Yet he is powerless to change the past.

His mother whimpers and presses herself back against the door as the sword is slowly raised high.

"Please," she begs "…not the children. Not the children."

He can neither close his eyes nor turn away as the blade is brought down, ending her life.

_Mother! No!_

He drops his head, tears spilling down his face. A thick red stream trickles towards him between the aged paving stones. A pair of small, bare feet step into his view, banishing the liquid crimson pooling beneath him. A small hand gently cups his chin, lifting his face to look at familiar midnight blue eyes.

Enkindler. The word pops into his mind, though he does not know its meaning. It echoes in his mind, refusing to be forgotten. Gazing into her eyes he realizes this word is a description of her. She becomes blurry and when his vision clears he's looking at a very concerned Brother Logan.

"Easy, lad, easy. You took quite a spill."

"Brother…Logan?"

"Yes, lad. Now quite squirming before you rip your stitches." Brother Logan, with Fenris' help, manages to get Sebastian back onto the stool. Birdie offers support for Sebastian while Fenris helps the physiker lift up the shirt so the healing wounds can be inspected.

"That's odd, I thought I used black sutures on both wounds, not just the small one." Logan gently prods the injuries while Fenris looks on. Content everything is healing well, he carefully pulls down Sebastian's shirt with instructions that the wound should be allowed to breath at night.

"Brother Sebastian, you have to stop scaring me like that," Birdie says. "Here, eat up." She places two plates on the counter, one for Sebastian and one for Fenris.

"Birdie, this is too much." Sebastian protests upon seeing the scrambled eggs and fried stew meat.

"You've lost a lot of blood," Birdie says. "You need the protein and iron."

"She's right lad," the elderly man agrees. He reaches for the second plate and is wrapped on the knuckles with a wooden spoon.

"That's for Fenris. The elf will can't bodyguard Sebastian on portage and biscuits."

"Bodyguard?" Sebastian asks. Fenris sighs and sets down his fork. He resigns himself to the idea that his breakfast will be cold by the time he not only explains why Sebastian needed a bodyguard, but also convince him that it is a good idea.

..~~*~~..

"**Madia!" **To the relief of both Justice and Anders, Madia groans softly and moves. Slowly her dark eyes flutter open and she smiles weakly at him.

"**Child, why are you here?"**

Her hands move about explaining that had to come back. When questioned she confesses she doesn't know why she had to return to the cave, only that she was needed here. Her eyes dart about and she asks about the trapped souls.

"**I took them to Compassion. Those that have not crossed over will be under her protection and care."**

He dainty hands flint about, asking if she can sleep without nightmares.

"**Yes, child, you may sleep without fear."**

She smiles and then asks about Anders.

"**I cannot fight his demons, they are of his own doing. Rest now, child. You're safe."** She snuggles against Justice and closes her, fading from his arms as she drifts to sleep. Once she's gone his leans against a wall and slips back into Ander's subconscious.

Meanwhile, in the real world both Anders and Madia breath a heavy sigh as they slip out of the spell and fall into a deep, natural sleep.

..~~*~~..

It is midmorning and Sebastian is in the Library, pouring over countless tomes and scrolls. He is determined to learn what an Enkindler is and how it relates to Madia. He's a man on a mission and is pushing himself hard to meet that goal. Little by little Sebastian is coming to the discovery that research, along with code breaking, is not is forte.

"Sebastian," Fenris begins with a sigh "…you need rest." It's his fourth request. And for the fourth time, Sebastian insists he will rest in just a few moments.

"You've been saying that for over an hour. You're pale, I can tell you're in pain, and you're having a hard time breathing. You need rest."

"You're right Fenris, I know, but…" He doesn't get to finish his sentence as he is interrupted by Brother Edrin and Ser Aster.

"Here you are Sebastian." Brother Edrin is jovial when he greets the wounded archer. "When I didn't see you in the hall for at breakfast, I got worried."

"Thank you for your concern, but I'm fine."

"You had breakfast, in the dining hall?" Fenris asks.

"Why wouldn't I?" The genuine curiosity strikes Fenris as odd. The elf's green eyes move to the Templar.

"I kept careful watch over who handled his food," Ser Aster volunteers.

"Of course," Fenris says his tone neutral.

"The Grand Cleric would like to meet us at the prisoner's…'cell'." Aster says. "Do you still wish to join us?" Aster's question is directed at Sebastian.

"Yes, I have to face this woman." Sebastian says. He closes the book before him and accepts Fenris' help to stand. Aster nods, and suggests that he and Edrin lead the way.

The foursome makes their way towards the room Trina is locked in. Sebastian stops several times to catch his breath or to wait for a wave of pain to pass. They are halfway to the room when the blue eyed archer confides in the elf that perhaps he will rest after this. Fenris manages to resists the urge to sigh or roll his eyes, saying only "I think that would be wise," in a calm tone. By the time the group reaches the store room there is a lot activity swarming about.

Elthina is standing off to the side while a small group of six Templars bustle about. Their voices are low but from the tone they are using it is obvious that something is wrong.

Edrin stands beside Elthina and asks, "what has happened?"

"She's dead."

"What? How?" Sebatian asks, gratefully accepting the chair Fenris brings over for him.

"We don't know yet," the elderly woman confesses, watching Aster gently push his way into the room. Fenris is close behind. "The Templars are trying to discover what happened."

"She was alive when Levin came down to relieve me." Nico says, almost defensively.

"Did you see her?" Elthina questions casually.

"No, Your Grace, but I could hear her moving about."

While in the room Fenris watches Aster examine the woman's neck and wrists. He then holds open one of her eyelids and studies the discoloration. Aster then moves her lips and notes the dark spots along her gums.

"Poison." Aster concludes. "She must've killed herself."

Fenris crouches next to Aster and gently pries open one of her hands. Upon seeing the empty palm he repeats the process with her other hand.

"What are you doing, Elf," Aster asks.

"She has no pouches, no pockets, and nothing in her hands. Where did she get the poison from?"

"She must've hidden it. Let's search the room," The templar suggests. He turns his attention to the blankets Trina was given.

"Hidden it where? The only thing in this room is a chair and some blankets."

The Templar shakes the top blanket vigorously. Satisfied there is nothing hidden he tosses the cloth aside and begins examining the second blanket. With a sleight of hand Aster produces the empty vial and acts as if he just found it.

"It's here." He stands up and turns to face the rest of the room, holding the empty container as proof.

"She must've hidden it in the bedding."

"Why? She's killing herself. Why hide the vial," Fenris questions as he takes the vial and carefully sniffs it. The unnatural scent burns the elf's nostrils.

"Demonic Poison?" The white haired warrior is unable to keep the sour look on his face as he passes the phial back. "And she chose the slowest acting poison she could find?"

"How do you know poisons?"

"My former master insisted I learn so I could better protect him." Fenris is unable to keep the bitter look from his face as he speaks of Danarius. "Why would she choose the slowest, most painful poison on the market?"

"Perhaps it's cheap, maybe she grabbed the wrong poison. How should I know?" The defensive tone in Aster's voice sets off warning bells for Fenris. The two men make their way back to the Grand Cleric. Aster passes off the empty container to Nico as they leave the room.

"It looks like she might have poisoned herself," Aster reports.

"So we have no way of learning if Sebastian was the intended target or not," Elthina comments.

"Nor do we have any way of knowing if she was acting alone," Aster adds.

That statement bugs Fenris. He looks at Aster, and Aster looks back. Something passes between the two. Sebastian is aware of it, but cannot say what happened.

"Fenris, will you help me find Sister Justine?" Sebastian pauses to catch his breath. "I have a couple of questions for her."

"You need rest," Elthina scowls. "Your questions can wait."

"Yes, Your Grace," Sebastian concedes.


	8. The 14th of Verimensis

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own anything, Dragon Age is not mine. The characters, game content and materials in the following story are copyrighted to BioWare. Neither I, nor this story, are endorsed by or affiliated with BioWare, or its licensors or subsidiaries. I do not receive any monetary compensation from the publication of this narrative. All Rights Reserved.

*_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._..~~~**~~~.._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._*

**Chapter 8: The 14th of Verimensis**

"_Maker, my enemies are abundant. Many are those who rise up against me. But  
my faith sustains me; I shall not fear the legion, should they set themselves against me."_

_Trials 1:1_

..~~~**~~~..

As the sun sets the snow finally stops falling, but Aveline is too engrossed with deciphering the second journal to realize the change in the weather. She tirelessly transcribes the gruesome details and in this book they used the children's names. The other translation was easier to read, because codenames had been given. No matter how detailed, how terrible the details, there was never a real child to associate with the crime. With these four chapters she had a name and a child to associate with every horror.

There are no clues in this journal as to the identities of these monsters. The only thing to come from this book is that she now knows those who wrote the other book, have murdered a total of 17 children.

When the sun rises it will be the 14th of Verimensis. The best Aveline can hope for is that another child has not gone missing while she has been trapped at the Keep.

..~~*~~..

Sebastian has been sleeping since he got back to his room early that afternoon. That left Fenris to deal with the droves of well-wishers who stopped by to check on the injured brother. The elf would grit his teeth and thank each person for their concern. Fortunately for Fenris' sanity the visitors dwindle with the setting sun and he has a few moments to himself. Something was not right. Ser Aster, from Fenris' understanding, has been assigned to Brother Edrin as a bodyguard, but the Templar does not seem to be acting in the best interest of his charge. Without knowing if the assassination was intended for Sebastian or Edrin, or whether or not the woman was alone, he allows the clergy to eat in the dining hall.

His theory of the woman killing herself is plausible, but it is just too convenient that he was the last to actually see her alive, and he found the empty vial of poison.

_Why would someone who is killing themselves hide the suicide weapon? She could not have been a hired assassin; her attack was too public, too clumsy, and too…amateurish. _Fenris thinks. He glances out the window and is relieved to see that the snow has stopped falling.

A sharp breath from Sebastian pulls Fenris' attention back towards the injured archer. Slowly Sebastian is waking up, and with the elf's help manages to sit up.

"Here, drink this." Fenris offers him one of the healing potions.

Blue eyes casually study the small clay jar; only one healer in Kirkwall uses those. "These are from Anders. How did you get them?"

Fenris relays his theory about them being pulled into the Fade. He goes on to tell the archer about the poison blade and how the mage had to pull the toxins from Sebastian's body. Fenris also describes the lack of energy Anders had afterwards and instructions he was given regarding the healing tonics.

"Poison," Sebastian says softly. It is as if at that moment he realized that someone truly wanted him dead. "Do we know what type of poison?" He tries to sound calm and succeeds to a point.

"No, all I know is that it was bad."

The room suddenly seems like a very small space and Sebastian's brain is screaming for him to run.

"I need some air."

"Why don't we walk to the kitchen and get you some food," Fenris suggests.

Before he can say anything Sebastian's stomach rumbles loudly. "Well, I guess that settles that," Sebastian says trying to lighten the mood. Fenris chuckles softly and helps his friend into his shoes and then onto his feet.

They walk slowly through the dim corridors, Sebastian choosing a path that would avoid the main areas as much as possible. While they walked, Sebastian tells Fenris of Aveline's investigation, and her concerns regarding Aster and Edrin. Fenris in turns shares his doubts on Aster's innocence regarding the assassin's suicide. When Fenris asks if either the Templar or Brother knew of the Guard-Captain's suspicions Sebastian immediately says no.

"Are you sure, when I brought you tea you were speaking with Edrin. You did not seem like yourself."

Sebastian stops. His blue eyes dance about as he tries in vain to grasp the missing block of time after he arrived at the Chantry.

"I don't know. Fenris, I can't remember."

It isn't long until they reach the kitchen, and rather excited Birdie waving them in, suggesting they sit at the stools still at her work table. Two trays sit before her, taking up a good portion of her work space.

"I was about to bring food to your chambers," she says gesturing to the three bowls of stew she had on one of the trays.

"Who is the third bowl for?" The elf asks, as he passes one bowl to his friend.

"Me," she says taking the remaining bowl. "I thought you could use some sleep."

"I appreciate your concern, but I'm fine," Fenris says, taking a large mouthful of meat and potato.

"That's nice dear, but you look like shit," she says casually causing Fenris to choke on the stew in his mouth. "Devon," Birdie calls to the child who is trying desperately not to laugh at the sputtering elf. "Be a dove, and take that tray to Brother Edrin and Ser Aster for me, then you should probably get to bed."

"Yes, Birdie." The child picks up the second tray and carries it quietly out of the kitchen.

"I bet you haven't slept in a week. Have you?" Birdie turns her attention to the white haired elf. "And don't lie to me; my husband, Maker rest his soul, was a physiker. I know what to look for."

"I'm fine," he repeats. "I have gone longer with less sleep."

"I'm sure you have. What I'm suggesting is that you two stay here tonight. This kitchen actually has 2 servant quarters. I'm using one, but the other is empty."

"Changing rooms is a strategic move," Fenris comments thoughtfully.

"Plus, these doors have locks on 'em."

"Then we're staying here," Fenris announces.

"Good, I'll go set up the other room." She has a bright and mischievous grin on her face when she says, "if I were 20 years younger I'd give the pair of ya a run for your money."

Spoons stop half way to their destination as both men stare at her. Her laughter is full bodied and echoing off the walls as she heads off towards the servant's quarters.

"Do you suppose she's kidding," Sebastian asks quietly.

"I sincerely hope so. Between your vows and injuries I would have her full attention. And I suspect she'd break me." The elf's green eyes briefly glance in the cook's direction. Birdie is happily singing to herself as she prepares the room for her guests. "Remind me to double check the lock tonight." Fenris states just before he resumes eating his meal.

Sebastian chokes on his stew as he laughs.

..~~*~~..

Aster is reclining back in a small chair, his feet propped up on the table as she reads his book. Edrin chews his nails as he paces frantically.

"Sebastian is still alive." Erdin says, nervously.

"That would explain why we were talking with him this morning."

"Why didn't the poison work? The poison should have killed him, but Brother Logan says he's healing well."

"I was there for that too. Maybe Trina forgot to use it." The Templar stifles a yawn.

"You said killing him would stop the investigation."

"No, I said his death could divert the Guard-Captain's attention." Aster still has not looked up from him book.

"What are we going to do," Edrin asks.

"What we always do after Kirkwall," Aster turns the page of his book. "We head to Ferelden and tour their Chantries."

"That's not what I meant."

The Templar makes a non-committal sound and continues to read his novel.

"I'm serious!" Edrin takes the book, and sets it on the table, closing it in the process. Aster sighs quietly, sets his feet on the floor and calmly removes his reading glasses. He places the spectacles on top of the book, folds his hands and looks at Edrin. His posture makes Edrin think of a father waiting for his teenager to explain why not going to the harvest festival will ruin their life forever.

"The Guard-Captain knows what we've done."

"No, she doesn't." Aster's coolness is infuriating.

"She has the book," Edrin protests, struggling to keep his voice down.

"So?" The Templar shrugs.

"They've deciphered one of the chapters. It's only a matter of time until they translate the whole book."

"And that has you worried? Our names are nowhere in that book. All they will read is what you've done to children and how I've cleaned up after you. Like I've always done." The Templar's tone is still calm and matter of fact. Edrin sputters and struggles for words he is completely flabbergasted by Aster's response.

"The story you told Sebastian, about Ashlay. Very sweet. Very convincing, but that's not what happened and you know it. The elf found out about the things you were doing to her daughter, so I arranged for an accident before she spoke with the Revered Mother. I took care of Ashlay for you, but you killed Lysa."

"With no parents she would've been sent to the Chantry. She would've told and I would have been excommunicated. It's not fair! She seduced me!"

"Of course she did. Everyone knows that eight year olds are the masters of seduction." The venom in Aster's voice cuts through Edrin. A small sound at the door catches their attention; Aster spins and sees a trembling Devon at the door, holding a tray. The wide fear filled brown eyes evidence to how long the child had been in the door way. With a yelp she drops the tray and runs down the hall. The Templar gives chase, catching his quarry before she makes it to the stairs. He wraps one arm about her tiny body, smothering her with his larger frame. At the same time he slaps his hand over her mouth and pinches her nose close. Edrin runs up to Aster as she silently struggles.

"Aster!" His voice is frantic as he keeps a careful eye out for anyone approaching. "Aster stop, you'll kill her!"

"Never bothered you before."

"We were never in the Chantry before!" The Brother is careful to keep his voice to a whisper.

In a matter of moments the struggle is over and the girl is limp in his arms. Edrin is relieved to see her chest rise and fall. The Templar unceremoniously dumps the unconscious child into the Brother's arms and heads back towards their room. Not knowing what else to do Edrin follows. Aster pulls the flask from his belt, which is resting on the table. Carefully he pours a healthy serving down Devon's throat, cautious not to choke her.

"That should keep her out until tomorrow night. I'll deal with the girl, you clean up that mess. Toss the tray and bowls into the fire," Aster instructs as he points to the spilled stew. Edrin, in a state of shock, obeys, carefully cleaning the food from the floor.

"Did you know my grandmother was a Rivaini seer? A gifted one too." Aster talks while he ties Devon's tiny wrists and ankles. "The day I was born she did a reading for me…it was the last reading she ever did. On my 14th birthday my mother told me about the reading." He secures a gag over the girl's mouth. "Grandmother said I was destined to walk a dark path. That death and demons would follow in my wake, but one day my sins would rise against me and I would fall at the hands of justice." He places the bound child into the trunk he and Edrin use for traveling. "I joined the Templars, hoping to avoid that fate." He chuckles dryly and locks the trunk. "But it was in the Order I learned the joys of breaking a mage just because I could…And then I met you." Aster sits on the trunk and watches Edrin fall into a chair. The Templar carefully studies the elder clergy's shocked expression. Dark Rivaini eyes look over and watches the fire devour the wooden tray and bowls. The stench of burnt stew filled the room.

"You really thought none of this would come back to haunt us?" The Templar chuckles once again as he opens a window to let the smell out.

"That…that girl in the plaza that day," Edrin says in a trembling voice. "She's an Enkindler. She has to be. I didn't think such a thing was possible, but I overheard some of the Sisters talking in the Library about Sebastian's research…" Edrin's words drift off.

"What's an Enkindler?" Aster asks, casually crossing is arms.

"The Chantry doesn't speak of them. They are only in the oldest scrolls preserved and locked away in the vaults of the Grand Cathedral in Val Royeaux. An Enkindler is a soul who was violently taken from this life, but whose faith was so strong and pure that the Maker restored their life and body. Giving them a second chance to live or right a wrong, but they are haunted by dreams of their death. It is said that Andraste herself prophesied about them."

"Impossible! If Enkindlers exist why didn't Andraste come back?" He sits back down on the chest.

"That is why the Chantry never speaks of them. It would allow a crack of doubt in the fabric of our faith." Edrin cannot keep the awe from his voice.

"Then how do you know of them?"

"I had a friend who worked in the vault, the same one who taught me that cypher. He showed me the scrolls. That little girl will remember what we did, and she will be our downfall."

"Then it's a good thing I know to find her, isn't it?"

Edrin folds his hands. "Maker, give me strength."

Aster laughs. "My friend, there is no room at the Maker's side for monsters like us."

..~~*~~..

The morning sun seems impossibly bright when it peeks into the window and right onto Aveline's face. Slowly she wakes up and blinks viciously at the sunbeam. Once again she had fallen asleep at her desk.

"With all due respect, Guard Captain, your desk cannot be anywhere near as comfortable as your bed." Donnic is smiling at her.

She tries to growl, but finds she cannot be mad at those brown eyes; especially when the owner of those brown eyes had the foresight to bring her a large mug of strong coffee.

Aveline tries to force the sleepy sound out of her voice as she speaks. "How did you get this honor?" She takes the mug with both hands, gratefully wrapping her icy fingers about its warmth.

"I…I volunteered, ser."

_Is he blushing?_

"It appears to have stopped snowing. The Viscount is arranging to have the streets cleaned, but judging by the amount of snow out there, it will take a couple of days." Donnic reports. Aveline nods and smiles while sipping her coffee.

"Guard-Captain! Guard-Captain!" A young red haired guardswoman runs into Aveline's office, carrying a small stack of registries and random pages. "I think I found something," she excitedly reports.

"For the past 17 years, I'm showing records of two people leaving Kirkwall, but there's no record of them ever arriving.

"What do you mean by records," Aveline asks.

"Every inbound and outbound vessel must submit a copy of their passenger list to the Keep. Some crazy tax law that was passed nearly 50 years ago. I have found 17 entries of a Valence Royo and Ilan Wolfe, and always on the 17th, but not a single notation of them arriving."

"Everyone must sign a passenger roster," Aveline asks.

"No Ser," Donnic answers. "Visiting dignitaries, clergy and their escorts are exempt. Also the Blight kinda messed things up for a bit."

"Valence Royo and Ilan Wolfe?" There's an odd quality to her tone, that the Guardswoman misses but Donnic catches.

"Does that help," the young woman asks.

"Yes it does. Thank you. If you haven't already, perhaps you should see to breakfast."

"Yes Ser. Right away Ser." She leaves her evidence on Aveline's desk and rushes from the office.

"Permission to speak freely, Ser," Donnic requests.

"Granted."

"You're not telling us something. I'd like to know what."

Aveline let out a heavy, tired sigh and asks Donnic to close the door. In a hushed voice she lays out everything she and the rest of the guards have discovered. She is very careful to keep her theory to herself, but is presenting all of the evidence to him.

"What is your theory," she asks.

"These crimes are being committed by either a dignitary or someone associated with the Chantry." He says.

"Of those two is there one that visits every year around the same time?"

"Yes ser, Brother Edrin and Ser…" Donnic stops mid-sentence. "You don't think…But they leave on the 14th."

"We can't prove that they leave. And think of the names Valence Royo and Ilan Wolfe. A common nickname for Valence is Val. Val Roy-O. And Ilan Wolfe!"

"I do not follow, who is Ilan Wolfe?"

"Ilan Wolfe was the first Knight Divine of the Templar Order. Maker help me."

Donnic's eyes went wide at not only the connection, but also the possible ramifications from this crime being made public. "Maker help us all."

..~~*~~..

The quiet sound of a softly sung tune grace Anders ears and gently coaxes him awake. His heavy lids slide open and his eyes gradually focus on Agnes' back as she fusses with Madia's cot.

"Agnes?" his voice so is harsh and thick with sleep that is sounds foreign to his own ears.

The older woman yelps, spins to face Anders, trips over her feet and lands heavily on Madia's cot. "Maker's breath man, don't scare me like that."

Anders had to clear his throat in order to speak. "Why is it so dark in here?"

"You were out for some time. Midge and I blocked the entrance to deter any Templars, but that turned out to be a waste of time." Agnes is careful to keeps her voice low so as not to wake Madia.

"What do you mean?" He slowly works on detangling himself from Madia and sitting up. The sudden blood rush into his right arm is like pins and needles. Air hisses through his teeth and he grabs his arm. He thinks about clenching his hand, but the pain is too sharp and he tries to move his arm as little as possible.

"Andraste's knicker weasel," he gasps. He watches Agnes carefully move the child into her own bed without waking her up.

"Pins and needles in your arm?" Agnes keeps her voice low. She tenderly strokes the child's hair. "Ain't surprised, you've been asleep for two and a half days."

"What?"

"It's the afternoon of the 14th. I was about to get worried. Lirene was here a couple of days ago dropping off food," Agnes points to the basket on his writing table. "But she ran out of here as if her hair were on fire. She didn't say anything, but she looked spooked. What were you doing?"

The pain in Anders' belly drives him towards the basket. "I went into the Fade to find the cause of Madia's nightmares." He pulls out an apple and a small honeycake with his functioning arm.

"And," Agnes presses, watching him shove half of the pastry into his mouth.

"I found a demon," he says around a mouthful of stale pastry.

"And?" She sits at his desk and pulls a flask from the basket.

"I defeated it. Hopefully, that will end her nightmares." He shoves the remaining half of the sweet treat into his mouth. He barely chews before he swallows the food. She offers him the flask which he grabs and guzzles half of the water before gasping for air.

"You should have told us - or me - at the very least." She scolds him while digging through the basket and pulling out a small block wrapped in a cheap, yet clean linen napkin.

"I didn't think we'd be out that long." He takes a huge bite out of the apple. Juice from the fruit begins to run down his chin, he wipes it away with his sleeve.

"Anders, I know you're a grown man, but you really should have said something. We could've taken steps to ensure yours and Madia physical safety. The Templars have increased their efforts to capture apostates. Midge and I blocked the entrance with boxes in case Templars came by, but do you really think that would've stopped them? They've been here enough times to know there's a room here. The boxes were to placate Midge. If the blighted mage-hunters came you and Madia would be in the sodding Circle." Agnes sighs and rubs her hands over her face.

He swallows the last of the apple and it hits his stomach like rock. It never occurred to him that he was putting Madia in danger. He considered the time change between the Fade and reality, but he did not take into account that the demon would be so powerful. Never before had he encountered a demon that strong. "When I was in the Circle any accidental babies were taken away before the mother could see them," Anders says softly. He looks over at the sleeping form of Madia.

"No one can take her from you," Agnes gestures to Madia. "But you know as well as I that the Templars will have no mercy on her in order to hurt or control you."

The thought of Madia in the Circle, at the mercy of so many Templars makes his blood boil. He's seen the games the Templars have played with mages who took lovers. Torment one mage while the other is helpless to stop them. If either lashes out, it's seen as an attack or proof of blood magic. Then one or both suffer time in the dungeon, if they were lucky, or the Rite of Tranquility, if they were unlucky. The spirit stirs and Anders closes his eyes, fighting to keep Justice under control.

Oblivious to his battle, Agnes speaks on. "From what I have seen, you are a good father. You just need to think things through a little more thoroughly. I've raise six of my own, I know the trials and joys of raising children. I'm here for you." She places her hand on his shoulder. "Anything you need. But I can't read your mind; you have to talk to me."

With the spirit under control, Anders opens his eyes. "Thank you, Agnes."

She gives him a warm friendly smile. "Anytime, my friend. Now here, eat this, you'll need the strength." She hands him the linen covered block, which to his joy is a healthy chunk of his favorite white cheddar and some dried meats. "You get to help us move the boxes."

"You know mages aren't built for manual labor," he teases, trying to lighten the mood.

"Neither are old women and I have seniority." Her smile broadens and Anders playfully grumbles under his breath.

..~~*~~..

Fenris sits beside Sebastian wondering why and how he was talked into allowing his friend to attend the morning sermon. Most of the Chant of Light is lost to him as he spends much of his time and attention on the lookout for another assassin. When he looks towards Edrin and Aster he finds the Brother tense and nervous while the Templar seems to be relaxed, but intently studying the white haired elf. He sees something in those cold brown eyes that makes him think of the Magisters in Tevinter. The Rivaini warrior has a dark secret and judging from the look in his eyes, Aster suspects Fenris knows what it is.

The elf allows his mind to drift back the details Sebastian provided about Aveline's case. He then reevaluates the incident with the dead assassin. It is far too coincidental that he not only identified the cause of death, but then found the empty container. From the look in those cold brown eyes, Fenris believes the man to be capable of such atrocities. But is Edrin? That is the question that has plagued him. The Brother comes across as kind and sincere, incapable of deceit. The hole in Aveline's investigation is that Edrin and Aster leave the morning of the 14th and children are reported missing the 15th. Even the most powerful magister cannot be in two locations at one time.

A sudden shift in the light barely noticed from the corner of his eye pulls Fenris from his thoughts. His head snapped in the direction of movement, to see a young Sister casually walking by. When his green eyes returned to Aster, the Templar was no longer in his seat. The elven warrior looks around, searching for his rival.

"Fenris," it is Sebastian speaking. "The sermon is over. Brother Logan doesn't think I'm healed enough to see my duties."

"I agree with him. I was there when he bled your lung." Fenris helps Sebastian to his feet. "I saw the toll it took on you."

"Yes, I know. I was there too," Sebastian snaps. The archer sighs and calms his agitation. It's not Fenris' fault that he feels so useless, and he has no reason to take his frustration out on his friend. "I'm sorry Fenris; I'm not use to relying on others to carry my share of the work."

"I can sympathize." Is all Fenris says, but soon his attention is pulled to the small gathering of clergy at the far end of the room.

"What do you suppose that is?" Fenris gestured to the group with his chin.

"I recognize Brother Craig and Sister Catherine, but I've no clue as to what is going on. We can find out, perhaps it's something we can help with." The pair makes their way towards the group when Sister Catherine sees them and quickly closes the distance.

"Brother Sebastian," she is unable to keep the worried tone from her words.

"What is it?"

"It's Devon," Catherine explains, her pale eyes glistening. "We can't find her."

..~~*~~..

It's dusk when a young Sister runs into the barracks frantically asking for help. Guardsman Raoh quickly approaches the woman and calms her down. Aveline steps from her office, and gestures for Raoh to bring the sobbing clergywoman into her office.

"Here have a seat," Raoh says, helping the woman into a chair while Aveline pours a mug of water.

"Now, what has happened," the red haired woman asks, passing the drink to the distressed woman.

"One of our little girls is missing. She was at the Chantry when the storm hit, but now we can't find her. We have people searching, but the Grand Cleric was hoping that some of guards could come help."

"Guardsman Raoh, select a dozen guards and meet me at the Chantry," Aveline orders. The older man bows and rushes out to fulfill his orders.

"Let's head back to the Chantry," Aveline suggests while turning back to the Sister. "Along the way you can tell me everything you know about this missing child."

The woman nods and follows Aveline out of the barracks and towards the Keep's exit.

..~~*~~..

Sebastian and Fenris sit in the kitchen, watching Birdie bustle about in an attempt to keep her mind off of Devon. The cook drops a large bag of potatoes on the counter, checks on the pot to see if the water was boiling, grabs a large basket of assorted vegetables and sets it next to the potatoes. She mutters to herself slamming down a large pot and looks about the kitchen. Her footsteps seem to echo off the walls as if feeding off of her nervous energy.

"Birdie," Sebastian gently calls. She ignores him and becomes more frustrated in her searching. "Birdie," he repeats, his voice firmer yet still gentle.

"I can't find the blighted potatoes. How by the sodding Void am I to make potato soup without any potatoes!"

Sebastian gets off his stool, and gently grabs the large woman by the arm. She spins on him so quickly Fenris fears he may have to intervene.

"The potatoes are on the counter." His voice a soothing as he points to the large bag she set down first.

She looks at the bag, then back at the archer, tears spilling down her cheeks. She wraps her arms about the wounded man and rests her head on his shoulder and cries.

"I'm so worried about her," she manages to say between sobs.

"I know you are Birdie," he soothes.

"Aveline," Fenris exclaims upon seeing the red headed woman walk into the kitchen, followed by Ser Aster and Brother Edrin.

"Her Grace was hoping that a few more people looking might help locate the child. Tell me, has anyone left the Chantry since Devon was discovered missing?"

"Six men, and Sister Heather," Sebastian answered while Birdie regains her composure.

"Where did the men go?"

"Half went to clear a path to the Keep, and the other half was clearing a path to the docks," Birdie answered. "But they all have returned."

"Did they make it to the docks," Fenris asks.

"No, but they expect they will by tomorrow," the Aster answers.

"I understand you three were the last to see Devon." Aveline does her best to ignore the Brother and the Templar without being rude.

"Yes, she is often in the kitchen with me. She loves to cook, and is such a wonderful little helper." The cook's voice cracks. She clears her voice and wipes her nose on her handkerchief. "She was here, helping me, last night. It was just before the children's bedtime. I asked her to take a tray of food to Brother Edrin and Ser Aster before she went to bed. She's always been such a good girl." Emotion beings to overtake the woman, she excuses herself as tears begin running down her face.

"She's taking Devon's disappearance hard," Sebastian notes watching the large woman slip into her quarters.

"It is as she said," Fenris voices. "The young girl took the tray and left the kitchen."

"You were here? In the kitchen?"

"Since the assassination attempt on Sebastian, neither of them has eaten in the hall," Edrin says.

"Assassination?" her eyes move to Sebastian, her shock and concern obvious.

"We can give you the details later. The attacker is dead, and I would rather we focus our attention on finding Devon."

"Right," Aveline reluctantly agrees. "So she left the kitchen to bring you dinner." She turns her attention to the clergy and his guard.

"But she never made it to our room," Aster volunteers.

"And you didn't think it odd," Aveline asks. "That you never received dinner?"

"Brother Edrin and I were engrossed in conversation and never realized."

"A conversation about what?" Aveline's eyes are locked with Edrin's.

"Theology," Edrin answered without skipping a beat.

"Of course," she says. "Someone must've seen her once she left here. Who would've been up? Someone who might have seen her leave the kitchen."

"You'd have to speak with Ser Bailey, he's in charge of the Templars assigned to the Chantry. I can take you to him, if you'd like," Aster suggests. Unable to think of anything else to ask either Sebastian or Fenris she agrees. The Templar bows and leads the way out of the kitchen, followed by Edrin and Aveline. On her way out Fenris hears Aveline order one of her guards to make certain the no stone is left unturned in the Chantry.

"Blessed Andraste, guide us. Protect our lost child in this dark hour," Sebastian prays.


	9. Taken

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own anything, Dragon Age is not mine. The characters, game content and materials in the following story are copyrighted to BioWare. Neither I, nor this story, are endorsed by or affiliated with BioWare, or its licensors or subsidiaries. I do not receive any monetary compensation from the publication of this narrative. All Rights Reserved.

._._..~~~**~~~.._._.

**Chapter 9: Taken**

"_Let the blade pass through the flesh. Let my blood touch the ground.  
Let my cries touch their hearts. Let mine be the last sacrifice."  
Andraste 7:12_

..~~~**~~~..

Anders is in a deep dreamless sleep when a pair of small hands suddenly grab onto his arm, rudely pulling him from his slumber. His eyes snap open, his heart racing and adrenaline flooding his veins, but instead of a threat he sees Madia's bright, smiling face.

"What's wrong," he asks.

She shakes her head, giggling as her hands explain that she had no nightmares last night. Anders tries to be excited for her, and manages some level of success. She happily announces that she's going to share her news with the world. Anders drops his head back onto his pillow and closes his eyes for a few seconds. He grumbles softly when he realizes sleep is an elusive goal. He slips into his boots and coat and decides to rescue those in his clinic from his well-rested and excitable daughter. He staggers out into the main room and sees Agnes leaning against the wall bordering his room with two mugs of tea. She offers him one mug and sips from the other.

"She's been up for half an hour or so," the older woman reports. "I'm surprised she waited this long before sharing her news with you."

"What time is it?"

"Early. The sun isn't even up yet. You've been asleep for a couple of hours."

"By the Maker," he sighs rubbing his eyes with his free hand. "Agnes, do you ever sleep?"

"Filthy habit, I gave it up years ago," she says humorously. "Midge is sleeping over there." She points to the sleeping form on one of the examination cots. "Drink your tea, Lady Amell says it's good for energy and I suspect you'll need it today." She chuckles and watches Madia play with an elven boy about her age.

"Hawke's mother? When was she here? I thought Hightown was snowed in." He sips the tea and savors its slightly sweet, earthy flavor.

"From what I understand it is. She was here about an hour ago; she dropped off a basket with some provisions. I don't know how she got here. I went to put the basket into the store room and when I came out she was gone."

Madia rushes up to Anders, her hands flitting about excitedly. "Yes, yes, for the love of Andraste, yes. Please go play," he emphatically answers hoping she will wear herself out and allow both of them to sleep through the night. Still grinning she turns and runs to her new friend dragging him out of the clinic.

"Don't go too far," he calls out after her. She waves back acknowledging his request and bolts past a pair of elven men staggering into the clinic. The golden haired elf is cradling a bleeding hand, while his red-headed friend helps him. The mage gestures for the blonde to sit on one of the cots.

He carefully takes the hurt appendage and removes the balled fabric that was used to stop the bleeding.

"What happened," Anders asks while pouring an antiseptic followed by a small amount of numbing potion and a simple disinfectant over the laceration.

"Tadlocke and I were shoveling snow when he slipped and cut his hand on some ice," the red haired man reports.

"Good thing Riley knew a way into Darktown that wasn't blocked by snow. How bad is it," Tadlocke asks, hissing as the healer gently pries the fingers back to examine the extent of the damage. It's a deep cut, running the length of his palm from pinky to thumb, but none of the tendons are harmed.

"It's deep," the apostate responds. "But not serious. I'll give you a few stitches; the hand will be near useless for a few weeks while it heals."

"No!" Anders is taken back by the sudden outburst. "Please heal it. Right now both the Chantry and Keep are paying good money for workers to clear out the snow. If I don't work I don't get paid," Tadlocke pleads. The mage pauses, he dislikes using magic to heal a wound as minor as this. He would rather save his mana for more serious injuries or illnesses. While healing magic has it uses it also runs the danger of making people soft, relying on it to cure every little scrape and bruise. However, the elf presented a valid point, so few people are willing to pay elves a fair price for work.

"Please," Tadlocke presses, sensing the healer's inner debate. "I have two young kids and my wife is pregnant with our third. We need the money."

"All right," Anders concedes and sandwiches the injured hand between his own. "How much snow has been cleared," the mage asks. He learned early that if he keeps his patients talking, it takes their mind off of the unsettling sensation of flesh and muscle knitting at an accelerated rate.

"A path to the Keep has been done."

"Yeah, a girl is missing from the Chantry so we had to get the guards," Riley adds.

"A couple of noble doorways and a few merchant stalls," the blonde man reports. He does his best to avoid looking the healing. "We're working on a pathway to the docks. Should have that done sometime today."

"The Chantry made that path a priority. Apparently a visiting Brother and his pet Templar have to leave." The tone Riley's voice makes it apparent that his views on mage hunters are the same as Anders.

"And what of the circle?"

The two elves exchange looks before Tadlocke speaks up. "There's no word, it's still inaccessible. You got a friend there?"

"A couple," Anders responds as Bethany's brown eyes fill his mind. "Done," the mage says, releasing the elf's hand.

Tadlocke clenches his hand a few times before saying, "thanks, healer…and uh…good luck to your friend."

..~~*~~..

"I can't," Aveline growls, her jaw clenched in anger. "Not without proof," she adds for the fifth time.

"We only have a few hours until the workers reach the docks. If they leave Kirkwall, we may never catch them," Fenris adamantly voices.

"I am well aware of that and I am powerless to intervene."

"But we have the journals," Sebastian protests.

"And if I ask for a writing sample they will know that we are on to them."

"They were here when that girl disappeared," Fenris points out as he paces back and forth like a caged animal.

"So was a third of Kirkwall. I cannot detain everyone."

"Then stall them for a few more days," the white haired warrior orders.

"I don't have any evidence to justify delaying them."

"Seventeen children were tortured and murdered by their hands!" Fenris barks, as he gets up in Aveline's face. "Every horrendous detail recorded and you have no evidence," he returns to pacing. His lyrium brands beginning to glow slightly with his intense emotion

"I have nothing solid connecting those two to these crimes. Without that there is nothing stopping Aster from using his status as a Templar or Edrin from using his Chantry connections to avoid being incarcerated. I will not start an international incident without evidence. I am powerless."

..~~*~~..

"Maker's breath," Midge sighs, collapsing onto a bench, her left arm brushing against Ander's right. For the past several hours Anders clinic had been slammed with a plethora of people needing medical attention for a variety of illnesses and injuries. Most of the injuries were cold related and the last patient had just left the clinic. The room was finally silent.

"No kidding," Agnes agrees as she takes a seat on Anders' left side. "At least we had that tea from Lady Amell."

"She wasn't kidding when she said it's good for energy," Anders says, resting his weary head in his hands.

"Maybe you should pay the nice widow a visit. You know, to thank her…personally," the older woman suggests as she sips water from her tankard.

"Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting," he asks, eyeing the older woman suspiciously.

"And if I am?"

"She is Hawke's _mother_."

"That just makes her old, not dead," Agnes disputes rather indignity. "Besides, I think it's safe to say she has a fondness for apostates," she pats Anders knee. "You know, I've heard that Grey Wardens are renowned for their stamina," she adds in a flirtatious tone.

"Agnes!"

"And mages are said to be good with their tongues," Midge throws in, then immediately covers her mouth as a bright blush rushes up towards her eyebrows.

"Midge!" Anders exclaims completely aghast that his shy and prudish assistant would even think such a thing. Agnes laughs wholeheartedly at their priceless expressions.

"For the record," Anders says once Agnes' laughter dies down. "That is not the Hawke I'm interested in bedding."

"Ah, in that case, I would gladly sell you to Lady Amell for a single night for more of that soup we had for lunch," the older woman says as she straightens her silvery white hair.

"And the chocolates! Have her include more chocolates!"

"There were chocolates!? You didn't tell me there were chocolates," he exclaims. "You're evil. Both of you."

Madia runs into the clinic, grinning from ear to ear and covered in mud. She runs up and wraps her tiny arms about Anders.

"Andraste's flaming sword, child! What have you been doing," the mage exclaims, reluctant to return the hug from the muddy child. Still grinning she breaks from his arms and sits down across from the trio to share her adventures. She tells that she and Jessel, her new friend, had to save Kirkwall from an impending darkspawn invasion. Anders can feel his shoulder tighten; his own memories of his time with the Wardens lurk just beneath the surface. He tries to hide this discomfort by taking Agnes' water. The child begins by explaining that the Grey Wardens are trapped outside of the city by the storm. Madia then explains that an ogre had snuck into Darktown. Anders slowly drinks the water as he tells himself over and over that this is only a child's game.

"An ogre! Here is Darktown? How did it fit," Agnes asks. Madia describes how the ogre got its horns caught on the ceiling and became stuck. Anders is unable to keep himself from laughing at the mental image and covers his mouth to keep water from spraying out.

"Oh my, so what did you do," Midge asks.

The child goes into great detail about how Jessel had rallied the elves in the Alienage and she had gained the support of the City Guard and together they defeated the ogre and drove back the darkspawn, saving Kirkwall and impressing the Wardens.

"You've had a very busy day," Anders says, handing the cup back to Agnes. Madia agrees and explains that she and Jessel need to save Lowtown from a dragon attack.

"I think the Hero of Kirkwall needs a bath and to start her lessons for the day."

Madia's shoulders drop as an expression of disbelief covers her face. Her hands then argue that heroes don't need baths.

"If the Hero of Ferelden can bathe so can the Hero of Kirkwall."

The crossed her arms over her chest and facial expression make her opinion on bath time very evident.

"Objection noted," Anders says, as he points to their room. "Now go bathe and start your math lesson." Madia huffs loudly, and leaves to do as instructed. He tries not to smile; she is so cute when she's grumpy an opinion he quietly voices when she is out of ear shot.

"Remember that when she starts dating," Agnes warns, standing up and stretching. His only response is making a rude sound which adequately sums up his thoughts on Madia ever dating. Midge giggles, and looks about the trashed clinic.

"At least we weren't the only ones busy," the young woman says in reference to the effort to dig Kirkwall out of the snow.

"So I've heard," Anders agrees. "Half of Hightown, portions of Lowtown and the docks, even parts of the Alienage."

"Well, let's get this mess cleaned up," the white haired woman suggests while heading towards the nearest pile of trash.

..~~*~~..

The sky is a brilliant shade of gold as the sun hangs low in the sky while a procession of Templars and clergy makes their way towards the dock. The docks are normally a bustle of activity, but with the recent storm only a handful of people are out and most of them are making their way home. Edrin and Elthina are speaking quietly which leaves Aster to his own thoughts. He carefully shifts the weight of the bag slung across his back while two other Templars carry his and Edrin's large travel trunk. He's grateful that the cook was so distraught about the girl's disappearance that made it simple to suggest that Sebastian and his guard remain behind to comfort her. He then thought of recommending that Aveline and Captain Bailey coordinate their efforts to search for Devon. So while he was busy with packing, the Grand Cleric was kindly arranging for his adversaries to be preoccupied. After all who could refuse such reasonable requests from Her Grace?

Once they reach the docks the Templars set the trunk down and Aster does the same with the duffle bag he's been carrying. The Templar looks up in time to see a bird fly overhead and makes a mental note to get a message to his contact in the Crows in order to have a couple of problems in Kirkwall dealt with. He allows himself a slight smile at his good fortune and ingenuity.

"Aren't you going to have it loaded onto the ship," Elthina asks in reference to the trunk.

"I'll see to the arrangements, Your Grace. I'm sure the Captain will want to arrange the hold for maximum capacity to make up for lost time. He's just in that building," the Templar explains as he points to small shack near the ship.

"Yes, Aster is…good at things like…like that."

"Are you all right, Brother Edrin? You seem nervous."

"I'm just anxious…about the trip."

"Your Grace," the Rivani says with a slight bow. "It has been our experience that the sea can be quite rough after intense snow storms. It can make for an unpleasant voyage."

"Ah, should we wait with you?"

"Not necessary, Your Grace. The building is quite small and I do not know how long we will be waiting."

"Yes, Aster is quite proficient at arranging these things."

The Grand Cleric quietly voices her agreements and once again Edrin and Elthina exchange farewells. Once they are out of sight, Aster hands the bag to Edrin, advising him to be careful that the girl is heavier then she looks.

"Go on ahead;" the Templar says. "I'll meet you at the cave."

"What about you?"

"I'm going to get my own playmate." The grin on aster's face is a nasty one and sends a shiver down the Brother's spine.

"I think one is enough." The clergyman's voice is quiet as he looks at the ship and Aster follows Edrin's gaze.

"I don't," he responds as he searches the near deserted streets. "You said it yourself, she will remember. It has to be dealt with now."

"She's a blessing from the Maker Himself. I don't think we have the right to destroy her."

"Edrin," Aster places a comforting hand on the Brother's shoulder. "Every child is a 'blessing from the Maker' and bad things happen to children all the time."

"But she's…different."

"And that makes her dangerous not only to us, but to the Chantry. You said it yourself. The Chantry has buried the scrolls regarding her kind because of the doubt it can cause. We are doing our divine duty and protecting the Chant of Light," Aster calmly reasons.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am. She is no better than an abomination. Now why don't you go to the cave and I'll meet you there."

Edrin looks at the bag in his hands and then to the ship.

"We can't take her on the ship. It's too risky. You know that," the Templar says in a peaceful tone.

"I know it's just…" his voice trails off and Aster is quick to play off of his partner's hesitation.

"It's ok. This time is different, I understand. Get on board and I'll take care of it." The compassion in the Templar's voice is truly moving and to prove his sincerity he reaches for the bag.

"No," Edrin says as he pulls the bag out of reach. Aster's demeanor is still serene as he suggests that the Brother hurry along to the cave.

"What are you going to do," the clergyman asks.

Aster once again surveys the near desolate streets and can see a small elven family huddled together and trudging their way through the thick snow.

"I haven't broken a mage in such a long time," he says, thinking this family may suit his needs. "I think it's time I had some fun."

Without another word Edrin hikes through the snow towards a set of arches that conceal a secret passage to the Wounded Coast.

"You there, elf, what's your name," Aster calls out to the family, pointing to the father.

"It's Tadlocke, Ser."

"Tadlocke, I need some help moving this box and I'm willing to pay in silver. Are you interested?"

"Yes Ser," the elf exclaims unable to believe his good fortune. He hands his wife the money he's earned that day, kisses her and the two children telling them he'll meet them at home. Aster is quick to grab one end of the box, forcing the elf to walk backwards. As they walk towards the small shack the Templar explains that he was supposed to meet some dock workers here to get the crate moved, but in his opinion they must trapped somewhere by the snow. He keeps the conversation friendly and uses his charm to keep his prey off guard. Once inside the building, Aster positions the box in a back corner, placing himself between the elf and the exit; trapping Tadlocke.

"Get that latch, would you? You have no idea how uncomfortable this armor is."

"Um, yes Ser."

"That your wife I saw you walking with? How far along is she," he asks as he pulls off his gauntlets. Words cannot express the gratitude Aster feels that no one noticed he isn't wearing his full ceremonial armor.

"Seven Months, Ser. With two sons already my wife is hoping for a girl."

"And you," off comes the breastplate in favor of less conspicuous leathers. A sense of dread begins to build in Tadlocke's gut.

"I just want it to be healthy. What of you Ser, do you have a wife?"

"Templars are forbidden to marry," Aster lies. "Our first loyalty is to the Order."

"I'm…I'm sorry Ser, I didn't know."

"It's not something we generally advertise," he pulls out a thick pair of old leather gloves and slips them on. "Besides, I take great pride and defending families, like yours, from the dangers of magic, like abominations, blood magic, maleficars…apostates. But you know this."

"Of course Ser," the blonde man is becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the direction this conversation is going.

"All mages are dangerous. They are a symbol of the Maker's disdain at mankind for murdering his bride. Magic is a poison," he pulls out a large pouch which he slides onto his belt. His eyes locked on the task of retying his belt

"Yes Ser."

"So if there was an apostate in Kirkwall, you'd report it. Wouldn't you, Tadlocke?"

"Of…of course I would Ser," he stammers. "The Templars offer a reward for every mage turned in."

Dark Rivaini eyes snap up and lock onto the trembling elf. The gaze is sinister and unrelenting as if those eyes were borrowing into the blonde man's soul. After a moment Aster breaks the gaze and fishes about in the small pouch on his belt.

"I suppose you're right. And with a baby on the way you'd need all the coin you could earn."

"Yes Ser," Tadlocke sighs with relief.

"As promised," Aster holds out three silver pieces for the elf to take. The instant the slender hand is close; the Templar grabs the wrist and pulls Tadlocke into a waiting blade. He pushes the elf back into a wall, driving the blade a little deeper into the blonde's gut.

"You're lying," he whispers into a pointed ear. "If you weren't you would've said 'apostate' or 'maleficar' not mage." He pulls the blade out and steps back. The wounded man slaps his hands over the injury and slides to the floor. Aster casually picks up a nearby rag and wipes the blood from the blade before tossing it aside.

"That's a fatal wound. You can trust me on that, I've inflicted my share." He returns the weapon to its sheath and picks up the dropped silver pieces. "I wouldn't try to speak if I were you. I've done some damage to your diaphragm and speaking will only make it worse and increase your pain." It's another lie and Aster knows it, but he's betting the elf doesn't.

After returning the coins to his pouch he crouches down in front of Tadlocke. "The interesting thing about gut wounds like that is that it can take hours for you to die and a physicker can't help you. All they can do is make you as comfortable as possible and watch you die. And I doubt you could afford a physicker skilled enough to make that," he indicates the stabbing, "stop hurting. But a healer…now a healer can just wave their hands and make you all better. I know you want to live. You want to go home and play with your boys, kiss your wife, and hold that babe she carrying, right?"

Tadlocke nods, tears welling up in his eyes at the thought of his family.

"Like I said, only a healer can fix you up, but the Circle is still snowed in, there's no way of getting to it. So maybe there's another healer you want to go to, perhaps one who might be hiding in Darktown," Aster suggests. The elf falters torn between his duty and respect for Anders and the desire to live and be with his family.

"If it turns out my information is wrong, and there is no apostate hiding in Darktown, then please accept my most sincere and deepest, heartfelt apologies. I promise to make your death quick and clean. I also vow take your family under my protection and give them half of my pay for the rest of my life. I'll be sure to tell a tale of how your bravery saved me when I was attacked by a blood mage, so everyone will know Tadlocke died a hero. And because of that your family will have the respect and protection of the Templar Order in Kirkwall. I will see to it personally. Believe me, I'm a man of my word." He places a hand over his heart to express his seriousness; his eyes never leave the elf's. "But if I find out you lied to me and that there is a healer hiding in Darktown I will pay your family a visit," his tone is now dark and threatening. "I will sell your sons into slavery and take your wife for my own. And when I tire of mounting her I will sell her and the baby to an Antivan whorehouse. Have you ever been to Antiva? I have and I've seen what they expect of their whores and what they pay them to do. I've seen the bruises, scabs and scars left by paying customers, and I've heard horror stories from the whores themselves. Nothing is forbidden, and I mean nothing." He pauses for a moment, letting Tadlocke's imagination run wild.

"Now your children may not remember you or how they came to live in such a retched, painful existence, but your wife will know. And believe me when I say she will go to her grave a depleted and broken whore who will hate you and curse the day you two met. So tell me elf, do I kill you now or are we making a trip to Darktown?"

With tear stained cheeks, Tadlocke reaches out to Aster, silently requesting help standing. The Templar smiles, flips up his hood and helps the elf to his feet.

"Which way are we going?"

..~~*~~..

"The amount that woman can drink is truly staggering," Fenris says looking back at the closed door to Birdie's chambers. "And I've seen Isabella drink."

Sebastian stifles a chuckle and watches Fenris prep two cups of tea.

"I do not envy the headache she will have in the morning, but she's finally sleeping." Fenris offers his friend one of the mugs. With his right hand the archer accepts the offered mug. Sebastian yelps with pain and quickly uses his left hand to set the mug down before wrapping his left arm about his midsection.

"Sebastian?"

"I'm fine. I just," he says with a gasp. "I just…sometimes it doesn't hurt and I forget."

"Do you need a potion?"

"No," he groans. Sebastian squeezes his eyes shut and breathes through the pain. "No," he says again in his normal voice. "I'm fine." He looks over at the door to the cook's bed chambers. "Poor Birdie, this hasn't been a good week for her."

"Poor Birdie?" Fenris asks in disbelief. "She's not the one who was kidnapped. She wasn't the focus of an assassination attempt."

"No, but she's discovered that she can't always protect the ones she cares most for and it's breaking her heart."

"Your compassion for others is overwhelming."

"Compassion heals the soul," Sebastian says, unsure if Fenris was being sarcastic or not.

"Those slippery bastards got away," Aveline announces as she storms into the kitchen.

"What," both men ask as they turn to face her. Sebastian winces at the sudden movement.

"Brother Edrin and Ser Aster are gone. They left while I was meeting with Captain Bailey. I just finished speaking with Her Grace and she says she and small group of Templars escorted them to their ship."

"Perhaps we can go to the docks and see if the ship has actually left yet," Sebastian suggests.

"Might I suggest a visit Anders' clinic first," Fenris voices. "Let the mage have a look at your injury, Sebastian."

"It would give us a chance to see how he and Madia weathered the storm," the brother says thoughtfully.

"You two do that," Aveline says. "I'll meet you at the docks. I'm off to inform my guards of the new search plan." The Guard Captain leaves the kitchen and the elf catches a fleeting concerned look on Sebastian's face.

"What aren't you telling her," Fenris asks.

"It may be nothing, but a few days ago in the front courtyard there was an…incident, between Brother Edrin and Anders."

"What happened?"

"Brother Edrin thought he recognized Madia and scared the poor child. He was so insistent on learning the girl's name that Anders nearly intervened with a spell. Later when I asked Brother Edrin about it he said he wanted to apologize to Anders and Madia. At the time I didn't think much of it, but now I'm wondering if there is something more behind it."

..~~*~~..

Tadlocke is slipping in and out of consciousness by the time they reach Darktown to point where Aster is practically dragging the elf. They stumble into the clinic and he is relieved to find it empty except for three people straightening up the place. He sees the blonde mage at the far end of the room with his back to entrance.

"Help," Aster says, making his voice thick with emotion. "My friend, he's hurt. We need help."

Agnes and Midge rush over and relieve the Templar of his burden, taking Tadlocke to a cot for Anders to examine. He remains back a few steps, careful to keep his face hidden as much as possible as he regales them with a plausible story of a mugging gone wrong. The trio hoovers over the wounded man, Anders giving life saving orders while the women hustle to meet his demands. Aster quietly closes and locks the clinic's doors before joining the group.

"Is he going to live," the Templar asks, maintaining his façade of a concerned friend. Midge helps the elf sip a potent healing tonic, while Agnes helps Anders clean the wound, allowing the mage a closer look at the damage.

"This is bad," Anders gasps. "This is very bad. I need my staff." The mage had no sooner turned to collect his staff when Aster slams Agnes and Midge heads together rendering the women unconscious. The Templar then leaps and tackles the mage to the ground and Anders finds himself out of breath and face down on the on the floor with his hands being bound behind his back.

"Greetings from the Templar Order," he whispers into the blonde's ear. Fear courses through Anders' veins and he struggles to keep Justice locked away. If the spirit were to take control now, he knows that the Templar will kill him immediately. He rolls the mage onto his back and straddles him, making it difficult for the apostate to breath. Aster pulls out an odd looking gag from the large pouch on his belt and forces it into Anders' mouth, despite his struggles to the contrary. Aster riffles through Anders' belt pouches and confiscates all of the lyrium the mage is carrying.

"It's illegal to have this outside the Circle. I'll just have to confiscate this," he says with a chuckle and stashes his loot in the larger of the two pouches. A faint sound from the back room catches Aster's attention and a small smile spreads across his face when looks down at Anders.

"I'm betting that's your daughter back there, isn't it? The pretty, little, dark haired girl with those large, haunting eyes; am I right?"

Anders refuses to be intimidated; instead he focuses on controlling the spirit within him. He doesn't understand how this Templar knows about Madia, nor does he care but he will do what he can to protect her and right now that means not letting this man know he's an abomination.

"I'm going to take the hate in your eyes as yes," Aster says with a devious grin. "I'd wager that if I asked you to call to her you'd either spit in my face or yell for her to run when I remove the gag. So," Aster pulls one of his blades from its sheath. "I'll have to find my own way of coaxing her out."

With sadistic glee and excruciating slowness the Rivaini pushes the dagger into Anders' chest just below his left collar bone. The mage bites down on the gag as he squirms and kicks. He's grateful that his cries of pain are muffled by the gag.

"My mistake," the Templar snickers. "I'm supposed to remove this first, aren't I? For some reason I always seem to forget that," he removes the gag and before Anders can shout a warning to Madia, the Rivaini twists the knife. Anders grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut as he continues his battle against Justice while remaining as silent as possible. He can tell his grasp over the spirit is slipping. His body writhes in a vain attempt to escape the blade.

"Oh, you're a stubborn little apostate, aren't you," he asks as he pulls the knife out of the mage's body.

"Fuck you," Ander growls, his jaw clenched tightly in agony.

"Remarkably unoriginal," Aster comments in a disappointed tone as he wipes the blade clean on the mage's coat. "I will make you scream," he warns a second before plunging his pointer finger into the newly made hole in the blonde's shoulder. The mage cries, but not loud enough to alert Madia. He can feel Justice beginning to break through just as the Templar extends his aura. It fills not only a portion of the clinic but it also expands within Anders body searing his nerves and muscles with a white hot torture. This pain rivals that of his Joining and he cannot stop the scream that escapes his lips. Justice is violently thrown back into Ander's consciousness and smothered beneath the Templar's aura. The mage is aware of running feet and hears Madia gasp.

"Come here child," Aster orders.

"Run," Anders manages to say despite his disorientation and pain. His voice is little more than a strangled sound. The Templar jerks his finger out of the mage's wound, causing a pained yelp to escape his victim. Madia slaps her hands over her mouth, tears welling up in her eyes. Terror stricken she watches as the Rivaini draws his weapon and holds the blade dangerously close to Anders' left eye.

"Don't make me repeat myself," he warns. Slowly Madia approaches. As she does so he praises her and slowly removes the threat to the mage's eye until she's close enough to grab.

"You are a pretty one, aren't you," Aster casually plays with one of her damp curls.

"No," Anders protests. "Let her go." His voice is weak and the Templar punches him for his efforts. Madia grabs Anders' dagger tries to stab Aster. The man easily captures her hand.

"Good girls don't play with knives" he warns. "When they do, people get hurt," slowly he forces her draw the blade across the mage's cheek. Blood spills from the cut. Sobbing she tries to pull her hand free, while Anders does his best to not make a sound, determined not to give the Templar any satisfaction.

"Sometimes," he forces her to move the blade to Anders' throat. "They get hurt very badly."

Tears streaming down her cheeks, she sobs loudly and shakes her head.

"Has he told you what Templars like doing to apostates?"

Sobbing loudly she nods, tears falling from her face onto the earthen floor. The blade barely breaks the skin and small drop of blood falls to the ground.

"His stories are nothing compared with what I have done and will do if you are not a good girl. Do you want me to spare him?"

She nods vigorously.

"Will you be a good girl and do as you're told?"

Still weeping she nods. Slowly Aster releases her hand, telling her not to move. She obeys. Her tiny frame shaking with body wracking sobs. She continues to hold the bloodied blade to Anders throat, frozen by fear of what will be demanded of her.

"It's all right, dear-heart." The mage speaks softly to the terrified child.

"I want you to stab him. Right here," Aster points to an area under Ander's right collar bone. Madia shakes her head, silently pleading that she not be forced to hurt him.

"You want to be a good girl don't you? You want me to leave him alive, don't you? All I'm asking for a little proof that you can do as you are told."

She shakes her head tears cascade down her cheeks.

"It's your choice," Aster taunts. "But I warn you, you won't like what I do to bad girls." Madia is blinded by tears and doesn't see the Templar produce a second blade, but Anders does and his chest tightens.

"It's ok, dear-heart, it's ok. Do as he says. It's ok. You won't be in trouble, I promise. Just do it. Please, dear-heart, just do it." He prays she will obey and be spared whatever punishment his tormentor has in mind.

Madia squeezes her eyes shut, takes a breath and holds it as she plunges the dagger into Anders' body. He tries not to cry out and succeeds to a point. She buries the blade barely an inch into him before she pulls it out and tosses the knife aside, bawling so hard she begins to hiccup.

"That's a good girl," Aster praises. "Now have we learned our lesson about playing with knives?"

She nods.

"We're going to be leaving soon, little girl," he says softly.

"No," Anders protests.

"And you're not going to make a fuss are you sweetness? Because if you do I will have no choice but to come back here and kill him, and believe me it will take several days and he will be in several pieces before he dies. Understand?"

She hiccups and nods.

"Go grab your cloak and be quick about it," Aster shows her his knife. "If you take too long, I will find a way to amuse myself."

She runs into the back room to grab her cloak.

"She's just a little girl. I'm the mage. I'm the one you want," Anders asserts. Aster has a devious grin and a lustful gleam in eyes as he gently runs tip of the knife down Anders' unmarred cheek taking care to not to break the skin.

"Yes, you are." Aster's tone makes the mage's skin crawl. Madia hurries back with her thick cloak over her delicate shoulders. Her eyes are red and puffy and the tears still trickle down her face, but her sobbing is under control.

"Let's go sweetness." The Templar sheaths his knife as he stands up.

"No," Anders protest. "I'm the mage. I'm the one you're after. Let her go."

"Just consider her the price for your freedom," Aster says in a sarcastically friendly tone.

"She's not a mage!"

"No she's something else." He gently grips her chin and looks into those deep midnight blue eyes. "Something far more dangerous than any mage could ever be, aren't you…Madia?"

She gasps at hearing her name. Anders blood runs cold as his daughter's name falls from a Templar's lips. Aster grins at the mage's helplessness and crouches down to whisper into the blonde's ear before punching the apostate's head with enough force to render Anders unconscious.


	10. At the Hands of Justice

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own anything, Dragon Age is not mine. The characters, game content and materials in the following story are copyrighted to BioWare. Neither I, nor this story, are endorsed by or affiliated with BioWare, or its licensors or subsidiaries. I do not receive any monetary compensation from the publication of this narrative. All Rights Reserved.

*_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._..~~~**~~~.._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._*

**Chapter 10: ****At the Hands of Justice**  


"_Draw your last breath, my friends. Cross the Veil and the Fade  
and all the stars in the sky. Rest at the Maker's right hand, and be Forgiven."  
Trials 1:16_

..~~~**~~~..

Slow and steady drips gradually seep into Agnes' consciousness. It's too thick to be water and her pain-addled brain can't identify the coppery smell. Her eyelids are heavy and her head throbs. With a pained groan she barely opens her eyes; the bright light intensifies the throbbing agony in her skull and makes her stomach move in revolting waves. With extreme effort she manages to open her eyes again determine to locate the persistent dripping noise. Her eyes widen when she sees a large pool of blood beneath the examination cot. Then her memories hit her like a sudden flood and she manages to claw her way to her knees to check on their patient.

Tadlocke is cool to the touch and his skin is a sickly pale color. She pulls a healing potion from her pouch and pours a half of it onto the injury. The other half she encourages the elf to drink. She quickly returns her attention to the stab wound and is partially relieved to see that it has not only stopped bleeding but has healed ever so slightly. Her relief is made complete upon the discovery that Tadlocke is still breathing. The cut is still severe and needs the skill of a healer, not a physicker. She turns to look for Anders and is horrified to find him lying in a pool of blood.

"Anders," she gasps, her eyes widening with fear. She tries to stand, only to find that the room spins at an alarming speed. Her legs buckle beneath her and she falls.

"Anders!" Hastily she scrabbles over to the blonde mage on her hands and knees and begins assessing his injuries. The cut on his right cheek is shallow, as is the small nick on his neck. She rips his shirt open enough to see that the stab wound beneath his right collar bone is not very deep, but winces at the damage done under Anders' left collarbone. She's worried by the fact that it is still bleeding. She finds a pulse but is unable to wake him. She pulls out the last healing potion from her pouch and dumps all of the liquid on his most serious injury. The bleeding refuses to stop; she rips off one of her sleeves and holds it over the hole. She needs Anders surgical kit, but knows she can't make in the state she's in. She continues to apply pressure and looks around for help. She sees Midge still unconscious and tries to rouse the young woman by calling her name, but she does not move.

Agnes curses and tries calling to Madia, only to be answered by silence. "Maker, please," Agnes begs, searching desperately for another solution. Again she calls for the dark haired child, and again there is no response. With no other options available, she screams for help. Her cry is answered by a glowing elf kicking in the door followed by Sebastian, his bow ready, but not drawn.

"Help us," she exclaims.

"Agnes! What happened," Sebastian asks as he makes his way to her. Fenris rushes over to checks on Midge and Tadlocke.

"I don't know," she confesses, maintaining her composure. "A human brought in the elf over there, telling us that they needed help. The next thing I knew I was out cold."

"His injuries are bad," Fenris studies the deep gash in the Tadlocke's gut. "I doubt he'll live through the night."

"Madia," Agnes exclaims. "Please, she's not answering. Someone check the back."

Fenris rushes to look for the child while Sebastian helps Midge, who is slowly waking up. The elven warrior returns a few moments later with news that the girl is gone. The blue eyed archer returns his attention to the silver haired woman, asking how he can be of assistance. But before she can answer Anders wakes suddenly and cries out in pain.

"Easy," Agnes soothes. "You're surrounded by friends."

"Madia," he groans as he rolls onto his right side, giving Sebastian access to free his hands.

"Gone," the white haired elf answers.

"He took her," Anders insists. "That sodding bastard took my little girl!"

"Who," Sebastian asks.

A slew of profanities, followed by the word 'Templar' is Anders' response. The apostate tries to stand only to be stopped by Agnes.

"You've lost a lot of blood, and you have a serious stab wound that needs tending," she calmly explains.

Anders tries to reach his mana, only to be blocked by the remnants of Aster's aura. He reaches for Justice, hoping to draw on some of the spirit's strength only to find Justice is silent. Since his merging with the spirit he's grown accustom to its presence, but now in the absence of that sensation he feels alone. Even his mana is still. Never before has Anders felt so empty or so isolated. Refusing to give up, he closes his brown eyes, focusing on his spell as he struggles to push past the barrier, only to fail.

"I can't cast," he gasps, exhausted by the effort.

"I need the surgical kit. Right there next to you," Agnes calls out to Fenris. Once she has the kit she riffles through its contents and manages to produce a very small vial of blue liquid which she offers to the mage. He consumes the bitter contents and tries once more to weave his spell.

Anders casts his spell again and this time a burst of healing energy envelopes the group. The damage to Tadlocke's abdomen is healed, but the elf is still far from stable. Agnes and Midge can feel their headaches ease and the nausea leave. Sebastian, for the first time in days, it able to take a deep breath without pain and the nagging ache in his back is gone. All of the wounds inflicted on Anders by Aster close and stop bleeding, but the caster screams and writhes in pain for his efforts.

His vision greys and he curls into a ball as wave after wave of searing agony courses through his body. The sound of his pain drowns out the concerns of his friends. When the agony recedes he finds his muscles ache and he is breathing hard.

"Anders, are you all right?" It takes Anders' brain several seconds to place Sebastian's voice. Too shocked to speak he nods his head.

"What happened," Agnes asks. Still unable to speak the mage just shakes his heads. Hesitantly he reaches inside, searching for Justice or his mana and again encounters the fragments of Aster's attack. He slowly retreats, and prays that whatever the Templar did is not permanent.

"I have to leave," Anders groans, slowly getting to his feet and staggering towards his staff. "I need to save her."

"You can't go alone," Agnes protests.

"There's no time. I have to leave now," Anders says, securing his staff to the sheath on his back, his left shoulder throbbing. The mass healing helped, but it's nowhere near as powerful or effective as focusing that spell on an individual.

"Anders," Sebastian says, grabbing the mage's arm. "Aveline is waiting at the docks for us. Let's get her then go save Madia, together."

"Fine, let me grab a few more healing and lyrium potions," Anders says after a moment of hesitation. "Agnes, Midge take care of him," He points to the unconscious elf. "I have some potent healing tonics and salves in the store room." He goes back into his sleeping quarters, grabs a few vials of lyirum and healing tonics. He then slips outs through the secret passage, Asters last words ringing in his ears.

_Wounded Coast, come alone and find us by nightfall or she dies._

..~~*~~..

It is early dusk and the sky is awash in deep purples and royal blues. Aster makes his way up the path and into the cave carrying the squirming child under one arm. Devon sobs quietly in the small cage, her fear filled eyes snap up as the Templar walks in. He pulls a key from the smaller pouch and unlocks the door. Devon pushes herself in the farthest corner as Madia is shoved in. Aster has to move quickly to close and lock the door as Madia bolts forward to escape. The templar chuckles at the child's failed attempt before turning his attention to Edrin, who is cooking over a small fire.

"I'm surprised you're not playing with your new toy."

"I'm just … not in the mood right now." Edrin returns to his task of stirring a small pot of soup.

Aster takes off his cloak and lays it over the duffle bag that recently carried Devon and their provisions. He joins the brother near the fire and busies himself sharpening and maintaining his blades.

"It looks like you're preparing for war."

"I am, in a manner of speaking. The mage will come here looking for her, and I plan to have my fun."

"He's coming here!"

"Yes. Where else am I to play?"

"But…but what if he brings help?"

"Like who?" Aster laughs. "He has no one to turn to. The guards in Kirkwall are dutiful in turning apostates over to the Circle. Plus the Grand Cleric was kind enough to request more assistance in locating the missing child." He allows himself another pat on the back for that stroke of brilliance. "That well connected dwarf friend of his is still snowed in at the Hanged Man; workers won't even reach it until the day after tomorrow. He may have support in Darktown, when it comes to hiding from the Circle but no one there will risk their neck for him. And his friend Hawke is still buried in Hightown, that little guarantee cost me two sovereigns by the way."

"Isn't he friends with Sebastian?"

"A spoiled exiled prince has you scared? I don't think so," the Templar challenges as he examines the edge of his weapon. The Brother looks over at Madia who is doing her best to calm Devon's fears. Aster follows Edrin's gaze.

"That! That has you worried?" He shakes his head, chuckles. "You're frightened of an 8 year old girl?" He gets up and makes his way towards the children. Madia pushes Devon behind her, her eyes hard and defiant as she watches Aster.

"It's not the girl," Edrin confesses, still unable to take his eyes from Madia. "It's what she is," he adds in a softer voice.

"I'll wager she can die just like any other human." He crouches down to be at eye level with the girls. "But the other one, Devon, still has a chance of going home. Isn't that what you always say Edrin? If she's good and does what she's told she can go home?"

Aster reaches his through the bars in an attempt to touch Devon. Madia snaps her teeth and he jerks his fingers back, narrowly avoiding injury.

"She's feistier than I remember." He laughs, stands up and rejoins the Brother by the fire. Edrin removes the pot from the flame and rises to his feet. He grabs his cloak and wraps it about his shoulders.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"I'm going to take a walk. Get some more firewood," Edrin explains.

"Of course you are," the Rivaini's eyes narrow in suspicion. "After all we are in this together; so we might as well be comfortable."

..~~*~~..

"He shouldn't have gone off by himself. Why would he do that," Sebastian asks as he and Fenris make their way to the docks.

"I don't know, but Aveline is just ahead. Let's get her and go after the blighted mage."

"There you are," the red-haired woman calls as the approach. "What kept you?"

"Madia is missing," Fenris answers.

"Madia? Anders' girl?" Guardsman Raoh asks.

"You…know Anders?" Aveline asks.

Guardsman Raoh nods. "Before you became Guard-Captain, none of us could afford to go to the Circle for healing. My daughter came down with a dangerous fever. Her mother and I were worried that we'd lose her and the baby she carried. I heard talk of a healer in Darktown and sought him out. He healed my daughter. Saved her and my grandson, never once did he ask for any kind of payment."

"Alright then," Aveline redirects her attention to Sebastian and Fenris asking them for the details of Madia's disappearance.

..~~*~~..

Aster paces restlessly and momentarily considers going after Edrin, who has been gone for over an hour. He picks up his swords and heads towards the mouth of the cave, towards the caged children. Devon whimpers and begins to cry. Madia glares at the Templar with utter disdain as she pushes the terrified girl behind her. He chuckles at the hate in those midnight blue eyes.

"You know something, sweetness; I don't think 'daddy' is going to show." He raises his sword, holding to point to Madia's throat. "Pity. I was looking forward to playing with him."

"Leave her alone," Anders warns, rushing into the cave. Madia looks at Anders and her face lights up with hope.

"That isn't how this game is played apostate. Surely you know this by now," Aster keeps his blade on the girl as he looks up at the blonde. "You don't get to give the orders."

"What do you want?"

"Your staff," he returns his dark eyes to his hostage. "Show it to me."

Anders pauses, his brain working furiously on a strategy. His hesitation is long enough that Aster looks up at him, the point of the weapon under Madia's chin.

"Shy? Or do you need some motivation?" He teases and with a flick of his wrist, cuts the girl's cheek. Madia yelps and blood seeps from the shallow injury.

"No!" Anders shouts and quickly grasps his staff holding it out as if to cast a spell. The Templar's blade once again hovers dangerously close to the girl's neck.

"Now throw it over the cliff." The Rivaini watches the blonde mage from the corner of his eye. "If you like, I could motivate you again." He says when the mage fails to discard his magical weapon. Unable to think of a way out Anders turns and throws his staff with all his might, watching as it bounces on the ground and finally slides over the cliff.

"Come here," Aster orders in a firmer voice, commanding Anders to stop when he's a few feet away. "Over the years I have learned to never trust what a mage is carrying. Take off the belt and carefully set it on the ground."

Anders set his jaw and obeys, carefully setting the pouch laden belt on the ground, near the girls' cage.

"Now the coat, after all one never knows what you have in the pockets."

Again, with no choice, Anders complies, his eyes narrowing with hate. When he stands Aster studies the dried blood on the apostate's face and then cautiously uses his second sword to open the mage's ripped shirt to examine the left shoulder.

"I see you cast a spell. Hurt like a mother, didn't it?"

Anders holds his tongue, and is rewarded with a superficial slash to his right cheek. He gasps as hot blood trickles from the new wound.

"A Templar asked you a question mage." Aster's tone is commanding and he continues to hold his blades out, one threatening Madia, the other at Anders' chest.

"Yes it hurt," Anders snarls through tightly clenched teeth, his hands tightly balled at his sides. Another flick of Aster's wrist results in a quick slice to the mage's left cheek. Devon cries softly, and Madia whimpers quietly.

"Respectfully, if you please," Aster mocks with a smile.

"Yes, _ser_, it hurt." The mage growls out. Aster chuckles at the blonde's helplessness.

"Once upon a time I was a Circle Templar," His dark Rivaini eyes move to the blonde and then back to the girls. "Nothing was more satisfying than breaking a mage. Seeing that fire die in their soul, watching them come to the realization that they've lost. That there is no hope for them, no escape. I genuinely miss the Circle." He sighs as he reminisces. "You know breaking a mage is an art form, now while I am no master I have discovered that the best mages to break are the apostates, the ones who have tasted the outside world. Especially those who _think_ they have something _worth_ losing." The Templar thrusts the blade into Madia's chest. She screams with pain and crumples. Aster returns his weapons to their sheaths and steps away from the cage.

"NO!" Anders hurries to the injured child, collapsing to his knees in order to examine the gash. She cries with pain and rolls onto her side. He tries to reach through the bars, but his hands don't fit. The Templar chuckles as he watches the healer struggle to help his daughter. "Oh my," he taunts. "That looks bad."

"Shut up!" Anders manages to reach enough of his fingers between the bars to examine the stab wound.

"Give her a potion."

"Shut up!"

"Maybe you should cast a spell."

The mage leaps to his feet and rushes the Templar. Aster stands his ground and allows the mage to grab him by his arms. The apostate loudly demands the key to the cage.

"I give you the chance to cast a spell and this is how you waste it," Aster asks with a malicious grin. Anders open his mouth to respond and can feel ice run down his throat as Aster uses Silence. The mage staggers back, clutching his neck.

He is laughing as Anders throws the first punch.

..~~*~~..

Edrin didn't walk too far from the cave. He followed a narrow goat path which twisted and curled around the cave and ended just above the opening. He sits against a rock and watches the waves far below. From his vantage point he also has the added benefit of seeing anyone approaching without exposing himself.

His mind racing, it was the first time he thought about the potential consequences of his actions. He tried to stay away from children, he knows it's wrong, but they are just so perfect, so pure. When he approached The Divine about traveling from Chantry to Chantry part of him hoped it would cure his hunger for young flesh. Instead it made it easier to hide his crimes.

He thought praying to the Maker for guidance, but couldn't bring himself to admit what he had done. He has a good life, better than most of the clergy, in his opinion and doesn't want to lose his freedom or the life he has.

His thoughts are broken by the sound of someone walking towards the cave. Edrin watches a blonde man walking to the cave and assumes he is the mage Aster has been waiting for. Edrin has witnessed Aster as a cold-blooded killer, but he has never seen such enthusiasm like when the Templar spoke of breaking a mage.

Edrin leans back against the rock, listening to the faint voices coming from the cave as he continues to ponder the situation he is now in.

..~~*~~..

Aster easily catches Anders' punch and uses the mage's momentum to push his chest into the cave wall, twisting the apostate's arm behind. The Templar uses his other hand to grab a fistful of blonde hair and pulls his head back. Pressing his body against Anders' he whispers, "I generally prefer women, but blondes," the Rivaini runs his tongue along the mage's ear. "Blondes have always held a special place in my heart."

Anders tries to push him off but finds he can't get the leverage. Aster grins and kidney punches the mage three times before releasing him. The apostate collapses to his hands and knees, his body wracked with pain. The Wardens taught him how to cast spells while in combat and how to use his staff as a weapon, but they taught him precious little about hand to hand combat. In the beginning he felt as if he were holding his own against the Templar until Aster made it clear he was only sparring.

"You're a spirited one, I'll give you that," he chuckles. Anders can feel the ice leave his throat but doesn't yet have the breath to speak.

Aster draws his twin blades. "What do you say we up the stakes," he sets one sword on the ground before the mage.

Anders looks at the blade, and then looks past the Templar at the cage holding the girls. Madia looks pale and Devon is reaching through the bars trying to grab Anders' belt. His brown eyes look back at the sword. He has to defeat Aster, and quickly, if he has any chance of helping Madia.

"Let me give you a hint. This is the end you hold," Aster taps the handle. "And this is the end you want to drive into my little black heart."

He glares at the Rivaini for a moment before returning his gaze to the weapon. He knows nothing about swordplay; he's a mage not a warrior. Then the epiphany strikes him, Justice was a warrior in the fade, long before he merged with a mage. He reaches into himself, struggling to make contact with the spirit as his hand reaches for the blade. Aster chuckles and praises Anders as though he were a dog. The instant the mage's finger wrap around the hilt a burst of energy from the fade fills the cave and causes Aster to stagger back. Devon shrieks and presses herself in the farthest corner of her cage. Madia gasps, her midnight blues eyes are wide and locked on the man she calls father.

He rises to his feet, his blue glowing eyes lock onto his opponent. The raw power of the fade crackles over the mage's body and for the first time since their merging Anders rejoices. This is not Vengeance who has taken control; this is his friend Justice as he was when they first met.

"Demon!" Aster gasps.

"**You dare call me such! I am not of those who shadow your wake to trap the souls of your victims."** His voice resonates like thunder; he stands up straight and tall, his sword pointing at the now terrified Templar. **"I am Justice, and you will pay for your crimes."**

Horror fills Aster's dark eyes as his grandmother's prediction echoes in his head. Without realizing it the Templar begins reciting an old Rivaini chant of protection. A weak smile spreads on Madia's lips as she watches Justice charge Aster. The Templar fumbles, barely blocking Justice's sword. Aster is stumbling back, fumbling as he blocks and dodges the spirit's attacks, his mind still in shock from his encounter with Justice and the fact that his grandmother might very well have been correct. Justice swings the blade at Aster's face, the Rivaini jerks his head away, but the blade slices his left cheek. The Templar stumbles back, trips over his feet and lands heavily on the ground. He gasps and looks at Justice who closes in for the kill. He kicks his feet and catches the mage in the chest and sends him staggering, Aster realizes that his game is no longer in his control.

"You may be my end," he says getting to his feet. "But I will not die quietly!"

"**It matters not to me if you die screaming."**

Aster yells and charges, Justice side steps and easily pushes the warrior off balance. He staggers away from the mage swinging blindly, but manages to slice Justice's left bicep. The Templar regains his footing and waits for the mage to attack. He charges and Aster easily parries the blow, and grabs Justice by the left arm and swings him into the cave wall. The Rivaini brings his sword up with the intention of striking down Justice, but he catches the Templar's forearm stopping the sword's tip inches from his ribs. Justice counters by swinging his sword towards Aster's neck. The warrior quickly grab's the mage's wrist, the blade uncomfortably close to its goal. The two struggle to break the stalemate they find themselves in. Suddenly Aster begins to chuckle and glowing blue eyes narrow in response.

"While you waste time with me, she's dying."

Justice gasps, his power over Anders' body falters as the mage tries to wrest control to help Madia. The split second of hesitation is all Aster needs to drive his blade into the mage's ribs. The weapon slips from Justice's hand and clatters to against the rocky floor. Madia screams and reaches towards him through the bars. Justice slides to the ground clutching his wound when Aster jerks the weapon free.

"You'll not be my death, demon!" he shouts victoriously as he backs away from his foe. A sudden burst of mana sends him reeling. Immediately afterwards a wave of healing magic fills the small cavern. Justice rises to his feet, his injuries healed his face etched with grim determination. His fist lashes out, punching the Templar in the neck. The warrior drops his blade and clutches his neck, desperate for his next breath. Justice takes advantage of the opening and punches the Rivaini again, this time in the jaw, keeping the dark skinned man off balance. Justice grabs Aster's head and forces the Templar's forehead into his raised knee. Dazed and half blind from pain he trips over his feet and lands flat on his back. Justice quickly picks up the warrior's dropped blade and places a knee to Aster's chest. When Aster comes to his senses he finds himself gazing into glowing blue eyes and a blade to his throat. Justice tilts his head slightly as if he is listening to someone speaking just behind him.

"**I should kill you, it is my duty." **Justice pulls a lyrium vial from the Templar's pouch and quickly downs the contents.

"**But your fate is not mine to decide." **There is a ripple of blue energy and a crack of thunder and then Templar and mage disappear.

..~~*~~..

Edrin listens to Aster having his 'fun' while his mind still unable to find a way out of his situation. A sliver of moon begins to rise, when Edrin decides to carefully make his way back to the cave. As he nears the cavern's opening he listens to the battle between Aster and Justice, fear grips him as he remembers the Rivaini's tale of his Grandmother's vision. He hoovers by the cave's mouth, carefully peering in. He watches as the glowing mage grabs the Templar and disappears into thin air. The clergyman waits a few fateful breaths before finally entering the cave. Devon begins to whimper and cry at the sight of him, while Madia glares silently. Edrin gasps at the sight of Madia's pale, weak form and the amount of blood covering the girl. Anders' magic stopped the bleeding and healed the wound, but the dark haired girl still lost a great deal of blood and is still weak.

"No," he whispers softly. "You can't die."

The clergyman rushes into the back of the cave and frantically digs through his pack and pulls out his copy of the cage key. He hurries back to the girls' pen. Devon continues to cry and Madia, even in her frail state is still trying to protect Devon.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he says as he unlocks the door. Devon wails and presses herself further back into the cage. He continues to apologies as he pulls Madia out. The dark haired child grunts and feebly tries to fight back. In his alarm, Edrin doesn't check Madia for wounds, instead he immediately applies pressure.

"Devon, child, you must run and get help."

The girl hesitates, uncertain if the Brother is trying to trick her. He glances over and sees the child hovering in the cell.

"Hurry, girl! Run!"

She bolts out of the cage and runs out of the cave. Edrin turns his attention back to Madia, who is still trying to fight back.

"I'm so sorry. I know your father is a healer. Surly he's taught you some of the healing arts. Please let me help you. You can't die."

She stops struggling and eyes him distrustfully. He again apologies and pleads with her to allow him to help her. Finally and suspiciously, she points towards Anders' belt.

"There's something on his belt that can help?"

The child nods. He grabs the belt with one hand and pulls it close, while his other hand maintains pressure on Madia's chest. Her strength continues to fade, her eyes flutter and Edrin pulls out everything in one of the smaller pouches.

"Stay awake. I don't know what I'm looking for." He gently pats her face. Her eyes gradually open and looks at the pile of stuff Edrin pulled from the mage's belt. She shakes her head and indicates one of the larger pouches. Still only using one hand he pulls everything out, holding up vial after vial for her to see. Finally she points to a small clay vial. He removes the cork and helps her drink the contents. Color begins to return to her face, although she is still deathly pale. She sighs softly with relief, but her lids remain heavy and it's a challenge for her to keep them open. Finally she succumbs and passes out.

Edrin gazes down at the girl, he remembers her from before, but cannot recall her name. He and Aster called her their little Chanter, mocking her self-imposed vow of silence. But the feature that stands out the most for him are her eyes. Those incredible eyes, such a deep shade of blue they almost look black. His eyes follow the fat, sloppy dark curls that frame a beautiful heart shaped face with delicate features.

_She must be a gift from the Maker, for only He could create something so…so…_

"So pure," he whispers, moving a dark curl away from her face.

..~~*~~..

Devon runs blindly into the night. She sobs as she follows the trail she hopes will lead her back to Kirkwall. She stops running, wipes the tears from her eyes and looks around to get her bearings. She's never been outside of the city before and in the dark cannot find any landmarks to guide her home. She has no idea where she is, she's cold, hungry and lost. Tears begin welling up in her eyes again when she hears voices. Not sure what else to do she hides behind a large rock. She's heard all the tales about the Quanari who prowl this area to ambush the unsuspecting and unwary. She's remembers stories about the bandits and giant spiders who also call the Wounded Coast home. The voices grow louder and her heart is pounding so fast it threatens to leap from her chest. Cautiously she peeks around the rock and is relieved to see Brother Sebastian. She abandons her hiding place and runs towards the archer, calling out his name.

"Devon?" Sebastian crouches to catch the running child in his arms. "Devon are you hurt?" She sobs and shakes her head. He hugs her and soothes away her tears, reassuring her that she's safe.

"You know Birdie will be very happy to see you." Sebastian says, gently freeing himself from the child and looking into her eyes. Devon smiles, but then her eyes widen.

"The other girl! Brother Sebastian, she needs help."

"What other girl," Aveline asks.

Still clutching onto Sebastian she says, "The quiet one. I don't know her name but Ser Aster brought her and she's hurt real bad."

"Can you take us to her," Fenris asks. She stares at the lyrium branded elf with wide fearful eyes and slowly nods. Still staring she points in the direction from which she came.

"The cave," Fenris says with trepidation.

..~~*~~..

Once in the Fade Justice is off balance and staggers into the cave wall for support. Aster collapses to his hands and knees and throws up.

"_Justice!"_ Compassion hurries to help steady her friend. With her help he recovers faster than the human. It was the combined effort of Compassion, Justice and the thin Veil that allowed him to cross into the fade, but it was not without cost. Justice could feel his strength begin to fade. It takes more effort than it should for him to change the size of the cage and force the Templar into it.

"**Why are you here?"**

"_The children became very agitated and insisted on returning to this…this place."_ Her discomfort at the surroundings is very obvious. _"I sensed you through the Veil and called to you."_

"**Compassion, what is wrong?"**

"_The evil committed here still lingers."_ She hugs herself in an effort to ward off the heavy oppressive atmosphere of the cavern._ "It has taken shape and torments those caught in its path with the evils done to these children."_

"The bad man," one of the children exclaims, pointing at Aster. "He and the other hurt us."

"_What other?"_

From Anders memory Justice can see Brother Edrin and assumes this is the other man the children are speaking of.

"**You have my vow that both will be brought to justice. But I need you to tell me his fate."** He points to the trapped Templar. The children cowered behind Compassion, their fear of Aster evident. It takes Justice and Compassion several minutes to convince the group that they are safe and can no longer be harmed by the Templar or his accomplice.

"_Their power over you is no more. You're free to cross over."_

"He won't follow us," a girl questions.

"**We can make certain of that, if that is your wish."**

"How," a young girl questions.

"_Justice and I can seal this cave. We can also place a rune on him so if he manages to escape we will know. If you cross over he can never hurt you again."_

The children talk among themselves and finally there is a murmur of agreement.

"_Then it is decided."_

Justice turns towards the caged Aster. **"You will remain here and suffer the injustices you have inflicted upon these children."**

Aster roars with rage and denial as he struggles against the cage. One by one the young souls disappear from the fade and to their eternal rest. Justice and Compassion leave the cave as a large shadowy figure with glowing eyes drifts towards the screaming Templar.

"Now, now," its voice is deep and distorted. "There's no need for that." It reaches a hand through the bars to cup Aster's face.

Justice and Compassion seal the cavern, leaving the Templar to his fate.

..~~*~~..

"Brother Edrin! What are you doing," Sebastian asks. The clergyman is sitting on the cave floor with Madia in his lap. Plump fingers gently trace her face in an intimate fashion. His head snaps up, and he looks surprised to see not only Sebastian and Fenris, but also the Guard-Captain and one of her guardsman.

"She's hurt. She needs help."

"Then let us take her," Sebastian suggests cautiously wanting only to have Madia safe before Aveline makes her arrest. He makes a move towards Edrin and the child. Devon suddenly pulls on his arm, trying to stop him from getting too close.

"No, Brother Sebastian, no. He tried to kill you!"

The archer stared at his fellow clergyman his expression a mix of shock and disbelief.

"What," Aveline asks, drawing her sword in order to protect her friend. Guardsman Roah also unsheathes his sword and quickly moves around to Sebastian's other side.

"He said your death would stop the investigation!"

Sebastian backs away from Edrin; his stomach moving is sickly waves at the knowledge that this man whom he called Brother was torturing and murdering children. He felt the bile rise at the memory of the details he read in the journal.

"That's absurd," the older man protests.

"Were you hoping to stop the investigation into this?" With her free hand Aveline produces the journal. Edrin pales and sick recognition fills his eyes.

"How could you," Roah demands. "How could do all those horrible things to children?"

"You're a _Brother_," Sebastian adds. "You took a vow to the maker."

"So did you," Edrin snaps. "But that didn't stop you from ordering the massacre of those who killed your family."

"You dare compare that to what you did," Roah demands, pointing to the book still in Aveline's hand. "His actions were done out of a sense of justice!"

As if on cue a bright blue light fills the cavern as a crack of thunder echoes off the walls. Edrin drops Madia and scrabbles away from the light. When the light fades, an exhausted Anders crumples to his knees. Dazed and fatigued the mage stares blankly at the crowd.

"Where's Ser Aster," Devon asks, still hiding behind Sebastian.

"He's trapped in the Fade."

"Maleficar," Edrin gasps.

Anders' eyes narrow at the Brother, and he is about to protest until he sees Madia. He calls out to his daughter and pulls himself the short distance to her.

"Dear-heart, open your eyes. Please."

Instead of opening her eyes she moans weakly. Anders sighs and places his hand on her chest. Justice used a great deal of mana to cross the veil and to confine Aster. Anders has to reach deeper than he ever thought he could to summon enough magic to heal Madia's fragile form. The healing spell spills from his hands and fills the girl with its regenerative powers. The seconds seem to drag on until finally she opens her midnight blue eyes. Anders all but laughs with relief and holds the child close. She smiles at him and wraps her tiny arms about his neck. After a moment Madia pulls back from Anders, her dainty hands asking if they can go home.

"Yes dear-heart," he kisses her forehead. "We can go home now."

"Come along you," Aveline says, grabbing Edrin's arm and hauling the portly man to his feet despite his feeble protests.

"Why don't we get you back to the Chantry," Sebastian asks of Devon. He turns and picks up the tired child. He can feel someone yank his bow and quiver off his back and spins to see Edrin with a readied bow.

"Nobody move," Edrin's words are thick with desperation. The bow trembles in his hands as he tries to aim the nocked arrow at Aveline, and Roah. Sebastian carefully sets Devon back on her feet and pushes the child behind him.

"Edrin, you don't want to do this," Aveline warns.

"Just…nobody move." He orders, slowly moving away from the group and backing out of the cave.

"It's pointless to run," Roah warns. "We will find you."

"It's not my fault. It was all Aster's idea. He made me do it," the clergyman protests as he continues to back out. "I had no choice. I'm sorry, but I had no choice," this statement seems directed to Madia, whose eyes are filled with a dark hate.

Edrin stumbles over a rock and accidentally releases the arrow which finds its way into Madia's chest. She stumbles back into and slumps into Anders' arms.

"No," Anders cries out. "Please, Maker no." He lowers her to the ground and begins assessing her wounds. She chokes once and goes limp as her midnight blue eyes close.

"It's not my fault," Edrin protests, still backing away. "It's not my fault," He repeats as Aveline and Roah move in to capture him. He jerks back suddenly and trips over the edge of the cliff. His screams are swallowed by the waves hundreds of feet below.

"Ok, I can heal this. I can heal this," Anders pulls the arrow from her body.

"Anders, she's gone," Sebastian says.

"No," Anders screams. "Don't be dead. Please!" he holds her limp form close as the sounds of his breaking heart echoes off of the cavern walls.


	11. Epilogue

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own anything, Dragon Age is not mine. The characters, game content and materials in the following story are copyrighted to BioWare. Neither I, nor this story, are endorsed by or affiliated with BioWare, or its licensors or subsidiaries. I do not receive any monetary compensation from the publication of this narrative. All Rights Reserved.

*_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._..~~~**~~~.._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._*

**Epilogue**

"_I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Fade.  
For there is no darkness, nor death either, in the Maker's Light  
And nothing that He has wrought shall be lost."  
Trials 1:14_

..~~~**~~~..

In the days since Madia's death Anders found ways to keep himself busy, like now as he reorganizes the store room for a fourth time. With his an arm full of jars he tries not to look in the corner she often sat in when grinding elfroot, but he's aware of its emptiness. As if against his will his eyes turn that corner, and for a heartbeat he hopes to find her sitting there. Her dark hair falling in fat sloppy curls, her eyes focused on her task. She always knew when he was looking at her and would look up at him and smile.

An empty space stares back at him, reminding him once again of her absence. He takes a deep shaky breath, lets it out slowly and blinks away the tears. A painful lump forms in his throat and he tries to clear it away as he begins placing the jars back on the shelf.

"Anders." The voice that calls him is gentle, concerned and feminine. He turns to see Hawke's mother standing in the storeroom doorway. His eyes widen in shock.

"Lady Amell!" he's unable to keep the surprise from his voice. "Why are you here?"

"I'm here to see you." Her voice is still warm and friendly.

"Are you all right? Do you need healing? Does Hawke?" That last question came out a little more panicked then he was expecting.

"No, but you do."

The painful lump is back and his eyes begin to burn. "I'm fine." He quickly turns from her, pushing his grief down as he returns to his reorganization project.

"Anders, as much as your friends care for you; as much as they loved Madia, they don't know your pain."

"And you do," he snaps as he spins to glare at her. The instant the words came from his mouth he remembered Hawke telling him about their escape from Lothering, and how her younger brother Carver was killed by an Ogre. His realization evident on his face, his mind began racing. He stammers and wonders how to apologize.

Her face is calm, and her smile is forgiving. "Yes, Anders, I know your pain." She holds out her arms and Anders finds himself in her embrace, sobbing like a baby. She holds him like a mother would hold any broken hearted child, letting him grieve. She never once tells him 'everything would be all right' because she knows differently.

With his tears spent he pulls back and is partially surprised her eyes moist as well. She offers him a handkerchief and produces one for herself. "Does it ever go away?"

"The pain? Yes, in time it will dull to the point that you hardly notice it; but it's still difficult to say I only have two daughters. The emptiness never goes away." She blots her eyes and blows her nose.

"How do you go on?"

"I find ways to hold on to Carver's memory. The hardest part was to talk about my feelings. My brother couldn't relate, Bethany tried but wasn't strong enough, but Marian…my poor Marian, she was strong enough. And because of that she bore the brunt of my anger. My poor little girl," she shook her head. "I can never apologize enough to her for that."

The tears start welling up in his eyes again. "I want her back." His voice cracks as he wipes the tears from his eyes.

"I know. One thing that helped with, not only with Carver, but with Malcolm's death as well, I would write letters to them. Then at night I would hold them to my chest as I went to sleep. In the fade I would put the letters on the kitchen table. In the morning I would burn the letters and the smoke would carry my words up to the Maker."

Anders' head popped up, an idea beginning to form in his grief stricken mind. "The fade?" he asks quietly.

"When we dream we go to the Fade, if my husband or son hadn't crossed over they'd be in the fade. So I left the notes, one day I left a note that told them I was ready to let go. That I would be all right and they didn't have to worry about me."

"And that helped? Going into the Fade?"

"Yes. I never saw them, but it helped."

"Thank you, for coming to talk with me."

"Anders, if you ever need to talk to someone who knows what you're going through, please come find me."

"I will. I'm going to take some time and think about everything you told me."

..~~*~~..

At the Grand Clerics wish Aveline and her guards went to the base of the cliff where Brother Edrin fell. It was her request that his body be recovered; even after hearing about his crimes she still wanted his remains.

"I think it may have been washed into the small alcove." A dark haired guard points to a small cave just above the water. Aveline nods, suggesting they investigate further.

She sits in the small dingy with Guardsman Roah and watches as three other guards trudge through icy the water.

"It ain't right," he finally says. "We shouldn't have to be out here risking ourselves for him. As far as I'm concerned his remains have been properly disposed of."

"I agree, but she's not giving a proper burial, nor is she putting his name on the Memorial wall."

"Then, why?"

"She wants to send him back to Val Royeaux and let the physikers at the White Spire examine him. She wants to know if he had some kind of disease that made him do these things."

"Captain!" The shout from the cave catches the red-head's attention. "We didn't find Edrin, but I think we found the remains of the children."

"Truly?"

"Mostly bones, but they are all small and not like a dwarf."

"Let's bring them to the Chantry, at least now they can have a proper burial."

..~~*~~..

It's been four days since the guards carried in the bones of nearly a dozen children. Some of the remains still had personal belongings, such as jewelry, that helped in the identification process. One of the bodies recovered was that of Sonja Rebelyon.

Sebastian carefully sets his bow on the kitchen counter. He stares at the weapon as he sits on the stool. This is the bow that ended Madia's life. It's a beautiful piece of work, the dark ironwood polished and lovingly engraved. Hawke had given him this bow, claiming it to be of Dalish origin. Merrill was able to confirm the bow's history and then had patiently explained not only what the engravings meant but also that only a master craftsman could have created such beautiful and perfect arches. He sighs and glances over at the large fireplace where Birdie does most of her cooking.

"Sebastian," Birdie asks, walking out of her chambers. "What are you doing here at this hour of the night?"

"I didn't mean to wake you. I just…" His voice trails off and she follows his eye to the bow now resting on her counter.

"That's the bow, isn't it? The one used to kill that little girl."

He hangs his head. "Every time I look at this, I am reminded of that night. I can still hear Anders cries when Madia…"

She places a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

"You're thinking about destroying it, aren't you?"

He nods. "I don't want to remember that night. But Birdie, this bow, it's Dalish. Merrill tells me that it takes their artisans decade to learn how to shape ironwood like this. And the process itself takes several weeks, sometimes months. I don't think I have ever seen a more beautiful or finely crafted bow. Destroying it seems like a sin, especially considering all that the Dalish have lost."

"Is it the weapon's fault?"

What?" He looks up at her, confused by her question.

"Did it fire all by itself, killing that child?"

"No, Edrin fired it."

"Then why destroy it for something it did not do. If a person commits a murder under duress the sin is on the one ordering the killing, not on the person committing the crime. Could the same not be said of this bow?"

"But every time I see it, I can see the light die in Madia's eyes."

"Then return it to the Dalish. Surely they would appreciate its recovery."

"You're a wise woman," he says with a chuckle. "How is Devon handling the news of her sister?"

She looks over at the door to the second sleeping chamber. "She's confused. She doesn't know how to mourn for a sister she never knew. She wonders if that makes her a bad person."

"And how is she settling in?"

"Better than I had hoped. The Grand Cleric is considering my petition to adopt her. I never realized just how much she meant to me until she was taken."

..~~*~~..

Isabella carries her large tankard of watered-down ale across the Hanged Man. She easily navigates around the tables and nimbly avoids not only the drunks, but also the occasional hand trying to grab at her. She has to move quickly to avoid two patron who are wrestling over who gets to pay the bar tab. She makes it all the way up the stairs, and sets her drink down in front of one of the chairs.

"And not a drop spilt." She boasts, collapsing into the chair. Merrill giggles and applauds. She has taken a seat at the far end of the table where she can keep an eye on the Tavern's front door. The weekly Diamond Back game would be starting as soon as Fenris arrives.

"Any word from Anders?" Isabella asks, propping up her feet and drinking her ale.

"No," Varric mutters. "It's been two weeks and no one has seen him. I'm starting to get worried."

"I'm sure he's fine Varric." Merrill says in her cheery optimistic voice. "He probably just needs some time; you know with Madia and all."

"Hawke can't find him either, Daisy. That's why I'm worried."

"Now that means something," Isabella says, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "I mean you know how badly he wants to…cup her joining."

Varric and Isabella chuckle.

"I missed something dirty, didn't I?" Merrill looks back and forth between the two humans, which makes them laugh even harder.

"And speaking of having your toes curl," the woman doesn't even try to keep the lustful gleam from eyes. "Fenris is here."

"Wait. I'm confused when did we start talking about feet?"

People avoid Fenris as he makes this way toward the stairs, even the small scuffle seems to be giving him a wide birth. He climbs the steps and regards Merrill with a scowl. "Still not an abomination I see."

"Well, let's have a look," she holds out her arm and looks over her body. "Not deformed. Not insane. Not killing everyone. No, I think I'm good."

"Such a relief," he says without enthusiasm as he slips into his usual spot next to Isabella. It doesn't have as good of a view as her seat, but can clearly see the bartender, and if anyone is asking about any strange looking elves.

Varric begins shuffling cards, but before anything can be dealt a blonde haired elf makes his way into Varric's quarters. His shoulders are slumped and his hands fidget with the hem of his torn shirt.

"Tadlocke," The dwarf sighs in frustration and sets the cards down. "Before you even ask, no. No, I don't have any news on Anders."

"Oh, um…ok, I was just…that is I really need to talk to him." Tadlock nervously explains.

"I know, I know," Varric rubs his forehead as if to ward off a headache. "You want to apologize for leading a Templar to his clinic resulting in Anders' torture and Madia's death. I know all ready. I also know I told you I would send word to you if I had any information." It is obvious that the dwarf's patience is at an end.

"Yes, yes," the elf quickly says. "But it's been a few days and I thought maybe you had heard something, but were too busy to…"

"Look, elf, even if I were too busy. I would still have sent someone."

"Oh, right." He sounds embarrassed that he did not think of that.

"So, why don't you go home?"

"Anders!" Isabella leaps to her feet, and points towards the front door before Tadlocke can say anything. Before anyone can stop him, the blonde elf is halfway down the stairs when he stops suddenly and stares at the mage.

Anders looks haggard with several days' worth of growth on his face. His clothes hang on his frame and it's obvious he dropped too much weight too fast. His skin is a sickly pale grey, and his eyes are sunken and glassy with dark, with near black circles beneath them. He staggers and clutches onto a nearby table for support. Tadlocke races towards the mage followed immediately by Isabella, who pushes the elf aside and helps Anders up the stairs.

"Nora! Whiskey!" the pirate shouts as she manages to get Anders up the steps while refusing help from an eager Tadlocke. The elf contents himself with following behind the pair like a hopeful puppy.

Isabella eases her burden into a chair, takes a deep breath and sits down beside him. Nora rushes up and hands Isabella a healthy serving of straight whiskey. She thanks the bar wench, pushes her watered-down ale in front of Anders and downs the whiskey in a single gulp. When Isabella hands the empty tumbler back to Nora everyone is staring at her with shocked expressions.

"What," she asks, confused by their surprise. "I was thirsty."

"Anders? Anders what happened?" Merrill lightly touches the human's arm. At her feather light he rolls his head to look at her. He blinks several times before he's able to focus on the tattooed elf beside him. He has to clear his voice several times before he can speak.

"What?" his voice is hoarse as if he hasn't spoken for a while.

"Here," Isabella pushes her ale in front of the mage. "Drink this."

"Are you sure," Tadlocke asks while pointing to the tankard.

"This shit has more water in it than the harbor."

Anders wraps both hands about the mug and slowly sips the contents. He takes several sips before he tries speaking again.

"I went to look for her."

"Who?" Merrill asks.

"Madia."

"You went into the Beyond? Anders, that's dangerous," she needlessly scolds.

"I had to find her."

"And did you," Varric questions.

"She was…waiting for me." He takes another small sip. "She asked me to tell you she's sorry Fenris for your nightmares."

The white haired elf stiffens and glares at the mage. He told no one about his nightmares and his eyes are guarded.

"When she…passed through the veil she was weak and disoriented. That night when she slept she found the mana stored in your lyrium. She didn't know you'd be trapped. When she figured it out it took her awhile to find you and pull you out. She never meant for you to experience her…last days."

Fenris' clenches his fist so tightly that his hands are trembling and his lyrium brands glow ever so slightly. The muscles in his jaw ache from how tightly he grits his teeth.

"What was she," Varric asks.

"A wondering soul. When she died, she stayed behind to watch over her little sister. When she learned Edrin was returning she feared her sister would be in danger, so she found a weak spot in the veil and crossed over." He pauses to drink a bit more of the weak alcoholic beverage.

"Just tell her to keep her distance." Fenris growls dangerously.

"She's gone," his voice and eyes devoid of emotion. "She crossed over. She just…just wanted to say good bye. I…I should get home." He tries to stand, but the combination of the alcohol and lack of food makes his legs wobbly and he collapses back into the chair.

"I don't think you're going anywhere, Blondie."

"Well, he can't sleep here." Isabella helps Anders to his feet. "I'll let his sleep in my room."

"Let me help," Tadlocke offers.

"I think you've done enough." Isabella snarls. His shoulders slump in defeat and she shies away from the snarling pirate.

"If you want to help," Merrill says quickly. "Accompany me to the market. When he wakes up he'll need food, drink and a lot of both. You can help me."

He eagerly agrees, his spirit lifted by the opportunity to help.

"I guess you can help me guard him," Isabella concedes with a roll of her eyes.

"Thank you. I won't let you down."

"Come on then, I forgot my twine so you'll have to guide me back to the Hanged Man," Merrill says. Tadlocke throws a confused look at Varric and Fenris, but says nothing.

Isabella manages to get Anders into her room and situated on her bed. She removes his boots and belt then tosses a blanket over him. She grabs a chair and pulls it out into the hallway, her dark eyes look back on the sleeping mage. She wants to say something but she's never been good at that sort of thing. Instead she opts to sit outside, guarding the room from all uninvited visitors.

Anders slips into a deep sleep; he found his daughter and said his goodbyes. The pain still lingered, but his healing had begun.

*_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._..~~~**~~~.._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._*

A/N: I know not the happy ending you were hoping for, and for that I am sorry. Neither my muse nor I could come up with a way to get Madia out of the game's storyline in such a manner that Anders would continue with his plans for mage freedom. If anyone has an idea on how to save Madia in such a way that Anders is still willing to die for Mage freedom, send me a PM and I can rewrite the last 2 chapters. Please don't hate me...my muse made me do it.


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